Tarren Mills is under attack?
by SevenTreasuresxxx
Summary: A Sin'dorei male finds out why people try to avoid Hillsbrad Foothills. M/M, rape. Inc chaps!
1. Chapter 1

Noise.

Loud ambitious noise. Ringing bells from the broken church, screaming from the locals, and rash shouts from the guards. And then there was the sound of death. And then silence, before the next rush of guards started shouting orders and the vendors screamed for help. And then there were the tourists, the ones who came momentarily for that couple handfuls of experience. Elves, Tauren, Orcs, Undead and the like. Even Alliance.

It was very dark, horribly dark so that only the blazing torches outside could light the area. It was also raining hard, the roof was being hammered by water, he could hear it dripping through the cracks in the wooden roof so it dropped down in streams. The whole inn smelled like mildew and moisture. Something the Forsaken couldn't find to care about, so they left it to rot.

"Tarren Mills is under attack!" screamed a guard. "Tarren Mills is under attack!!"

The chaos outside awoke a sleeper in the inn, a Blood Elf, sleeping on the second floor in a damp blanket on a mildew-scented bed. He sat up quickly and looked around in panic, his bright green eyes wide with fear at the shouting outside and the horrible noises of people dying. He was silent still, not daring to make a sound to alert whomever was attacking aware of his presence.

There was another person on the bed opposite his, a Forsaken rogue by the looks. The rotting corpse jumped out of his flimsy cot and looked at him before the door. Running towards it he shut it and locked the bolt. As if that will do anything, whoever was attacking would either pass their door or kick it down and violently kill them both. There were only the two of them.

The white haired rogue snarled at the door and barricaded it. "You! Priest!" shouted the rogue at him.

"U-Uh. Yes?" he replied in a small voice, leaning off the bed so he could stand.

"Tarren Mills is under attack!" came another shout.

"Get that dresser and push it against this door!" The rogue pointed at a wooden dresser in the corner of the room.

"I-I don't. I don't think it'll help much if they--"

The door exploded. And the Forsaken disappeared in the fire and rubble. The Priest, who's name was Donelzane Seredian, was flung forward on his way to the dresser and thrown to the ground. He was no one important. Another young whelp looking to become a champion amongst his people, almost considered a fruitless goal yet he would try anyways.

A sliver or two dug into his skin as he slid across the rough wooden floor before he stopped himself and looked behind him at the pile of wood, metal and a disembodied Forsaken rogue. His face turned into horrified sadness at the Undead's body. 'Resurrection… I could…,' he thought as he laid on the floor looking at the body.

But he found new fear as there was the rattle and crunch of rotting wood as someone else walked through the broken door. He was tall, towering, and fully dressed in the best armor available. Donelzane looked up at this person in terror. He was going to die, horribly. Skewered. Tortured. And then burnt alive perhaps.

"P-Pl..Please," he stuttered in Orcish. "I beg of you…."

He curled up closer to himself, trying to look feeble and unable to do anything against this person, looks like a Night Elf. A warrior. Of course Donelzane was ONE hit to death.

"I-I-I was… And the--that rogue…" he tried again. Although the other elf just stood there, his face remaining stoic, before he saw the Priest on the ground, and his look turned to amused, a snide smirk on his face.

Donelzane's pleading went unheard as the Night Elf advanced on him. The small Blood Elf immediately started crawling backwards in a panicking pace, never turning his back or leaving the Night Elf's piercing silver eyes on him. His back his the wall and he was trapped, "No wait! Please!" he cried out, trying to shrink against the tall Elf.

The warrior leant down and grabbed him around his robes and pulled him up, the Blood Elf began fighting back, kicking the warrior's legs and shins, beating on his chest with his cloth-protected hands. To say the least he was doing more damage to himself than the warrior. Hard plate meeting soft cloth was hardly any competition at all and would be an insult if it was.

The Night Elf turned around and threw the priest to the ground, before he stomped down on his side and grinded his foot into his side. Donelzane cried out in pain, feeling his bones rattle at the impact.

Arcelare Stronwill, experienced warrior of the Alliance, strolled up the stairs in the Tarren Mills inn, towards the rooms. There was bound to be some unfortunate travellers in there. The rest of his party was outside having a bit of fun with the guards. He'd just finished off the Innkeeper and it's guards. No doubt the shouting from the Forsaken guards was warding off Horde younglings from returning into town for fear they'd be apart of the slaughter too.

He'd only came with three more people, a Draenei paladin, and two Humans, a rogue and a warlock. To say the least they were massacring this small outpost well actually. Concerning his raiders, he only knew the Draenei personally, his name was Kasteus Abarose, talented with the Light and his melee ability. The other two, he knew their names and that was all. The rogue, Vackett. And the warlock, Rahn.

Arcelare threw a small bomb up the stairs and it exploded violently, sending shrapnel and debris everywhere. He rounded the corner of the second story corner and leisurely walked into the room where the beds were kept. He sneered at the whole place. Undead filth… Probably having no idea how to keep things clean and tidy.

He walked into a room and saw a corpse that'd been caught in the explosion, and a shivering little blondie on the ground, looking at him with utter horror like he was a demon. A little Blood Elf. How adorable he thinks he can escape, it only caused his sadistically calm smirk to widen.

The white-blonde elf scurried away as he advanced, a priest, he was basically pleading on his knees, he could tell. Pleading for life.

Arcelare snatched the elf off the floor and threw him to the side before stepping on him, adding a heel to the small Sin'dorei's pain. Leaning his weight on the foot grinding into the priest's side, he grinned.

"Little priest. Hillsbrad is infamous for being a death zone," he said aloud down at the Blood Elf. "Your loss, elf." Arcelare took his sword and stabbed it into the soft wood by the priest's head and stepped on his chest, holding him down.

He heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs, taking his silvery gaze off the Blood Elf to the door. Kasteus came into the room, looking around with a curious gaze before his look fell on the two elves.

"Ah, I see you've caught anoder one, Stronwill. Ye'd better put his life to rest unless you plan on tortur'ing the little one," Kasteus said in his thick accent, putting his mace back in his belt and approaching the two.

Arcelare looked up from his crouched position over the priest at Kasteus. "Yes, I do plan on having a little bit of fun with this one. He's cute ain't he?" commented the warrior as he grabbed the priest by his thin jaw and leaned it towards Kasteus.

Donelzane groaned as sharp claws dug deep into the skin of his jaw and was twisted so he had to look at the Draenei. He saw the Draenei paladin lean his head and say something in Common. Obviously concerning the conversation between the Night Elf and the Draenei. He hoped they weren't talking about how to kill him… He'd never taken the course at the Academy to learn Common, maybe he should have.

The priest tried twisting in the Night Elf's grasp, fiercely fighting back, letting his hands slither with shadow energy. His palms let out a shock of dark energy, at least trying to show he wasn't going to submit that easily.

To his utter dismay the warrior hardly flinched, he might not have even felt it. All he did was stop talking to the paladin and look down at him with a less than amused eye, his long blue brow raised with a frown on his face.

Donelzane was then hauled up harshly, hearing threads ripping as his seams were shred from the rough pull when the Night Elf lifted him from the ground and threw him against a wall, holding him tightly there. His wrists were crushed together by the Kal'dorei's superior strength and held above is head. The warrior lifted him higher still, until Donelzane's boots hung above the ground. "Aaaah…!" he cried in pain when his shoulders were strained and his wrists felt like they might snap.

Kasteus just observed with a small grin on his face, amused at how Arcelare handled the little elf so harshly.

"Be gentle, aye? Ye might break one of 'es bones there," chuckled the paladin. "I thought maybe ye'd like to preserve 'es body until he's become worthless, hm?" Of course, the Draenei's words were not holy in the least. He knew Arcelare would abuse the priest until he was begging for death. And if the other two got in here they'd probably observe like he was, a voyeur, that's the word.

"But that takes all the fun outta this," replied Arcelare, his eyes not leaving the terrified face of the priest's. He loved that look. Terror. His prey fearing him, it was exhilarating to know he petrified people. Knowing he held their life in his hand. He abruptly grabbed the priest by his thin neck and squeezed hard.

Donelzane chocked, he felt his windpipe shut closed, his eyes went wide and he panicked again. He made a chocking sound and tried to suck in any sort of air, his hysteria not helping with his lack of oxygen, using it up quickly before he felt his lungs burn for air. He desperately pulled on his arms, trying to get them out of the warrior's vice grip on his wrists.

He tried kicking at the warrior again, but his arms being lifted above his head was stressing his chest so any air was already half compressed out of his lungs when the warrior strung him up. And it was only seconds after the warrior clutched his neck did he feel dizziness and blackness claw at his conscious.

His blurry, doubled vision saw the Draenei put his big blue hand on the Night Elf's shoulder and say something bold to the warrior. He could barely do anything more than watch as his senses began fading when oxygen still failed to supply his body.

Although, by some miracle he felt the hand leave his neck, and he immediately gasped and started to pant, wanting to use his hands to massage his sore throat. And oddly enough, the Kal'dorei let go of his thin wrists, but the freedom was short lived as he felt the warrior's fist connect with his stomach. And only half a second later did he register the immense pain with a sharp cry of hurt, bringing him to his knees and hugging his middle as he doubled over, painful salt droplets lingering on the corner of his eyes which escaped and trickled down his nose to the floor, screaming at the wooden floor..

Arcelare looked over his shoulder at Kasteus with none other than a sadistic smile. "If you say so. Do you… wanna help?" He grinned darkly at Kasteus's smirking face, gesturing to the withering elf crying on the floor.

Kasteus shrugged and walked towards the two elves. "You are indeed very malicious, Arcelare. Who knows how the leetle elf will feel h'afterwards." Then again, Kasteus guessed that the warrior wouldn't give any care towards the situation leading after he'd done what he wants with the priest.

Arcelare turned a few degrees to stare at the whimpering Sin'dorei on the floor, breathing hard at the stress in his middle. The Night Elf grinned toothily and grabbed the priest by his thin arm and yanked him up, earning a sharp shriek of pain. He pulled the elf closer to his face so he was inches from the priest's nose. "Listen you little bitch, I know you can't understand me when I say this is going to hurt. So just be a good elf…and scream," growled Arcelare and squeezed the priests arm until his face winced in pain and soon broke out in a pained cry as his arm was crushed.

The cry made Arcelare's grin widen into a sick, malevolent sneer. He unclenched his fist and shoved the priest backwards towards Kasteus.

The Draenei grabbed the tiny creature with both of his great hands, holding him still while he looked the Sin'dorei over. Kasteus was nearly twice the size of the priest, and the fear was plainly shown on his face, mouth open and panting, his eyes wide and shallow with fear, and he was shivering… This made the paladin raise an eyebrow, "The leetle elf seems frightened of me. That hurts my feelings." Said Kasteus in a sombre tone, before he took one dark blue finger and lifted the elf's chin, getting a look at his face. "Hmm."

Arcelare was standing with his arms crossed and looking at the two with a mischievous look. "What're you thinking?"

"Unsure at the time," Kasteus sighed. "Maybe you should be… "gentle", with this one. He's pretty, like a woman." The Draenei chuckled slightly. "He might sell good at the Auction House."

"And I'm devious?" laughed Arcelare. "Fine! But I still want my fun!" He took two steps forward and grabbed the elf by the back of his collar and pulled him backwards but not out of the paladin's hands, and hissed in the priest's ear, "You heard the man. When we're done raping you, there'll be dozens of others out for your tight ass."

The Night Elf's spare hand came to gently caress the other elf's smooth, pale neck and buried his nose in his silvery blonde hair and took a deep breath, smelling the mossy dampness that clung to them all from the atmosphere of Hillsbrad Foothills.

Donelzane stifled a small whimper that came up this throat when the Kal'dorei grabbed him roughly by his robes, and shivered more quickly when he felt cold plate hands on his neck, and sniffed back the want to cry again. He tried speaking, but all that came out was a barely-audible, shaky, "P…Pl-ease… What are…?"

He shut his eyes and sniffed, holding back more tears. Under his eyes were red from his crying, small droplets still hanging in the corners of his eyes as he looked up at the Draenei again, his arms trapped in his huge also-plated hands. He winced at the dark look he received and tried wriggling out of the vice-grip hold the paladin had. But the hands just held tighter, but not painfully tighter, a warning. He could say without shame to any pride he had, that he was terrified. It was at this point in the confrontation did he realize that these two Alliance were going to do unspeakable things. What could he do? He was so much younger than his assaulters. He would have no effect at all if he tried resisting or escaping. This thought forced more watery veins to fall down his cheeks and to the floor.

Suddenly the plated hand that was holding onto his collar was now weaving through his hair gently, the warrior's voice went soft as he whispered something delicate in the Sin'dorei's long ear, making Donelzane flinch away quickly. But that single act of repulsion was obviously a bad idea because a moment after he pulled away from the Night Elf's hand it was firmly yanking at his roots making the priest wince and thin his lips so he didn't make a sound at the uncomfortable pain. Donelzane hoped he had an idea on how he was suppose to act. If he cooperated it seemed the two weren't as horrible to him…

"Curse the Undead," he whispered to himself. It was the guy's fault, the Forsaken guard, Donelzane thought he remembered him from Undercity. Holy crap that place smelt bad. He accepted his quest quickly without much thought and took a flight path to The Sepulcher where he began to walk to Hillsbrad. It was only when he entered the zone did he find out how dangerous it was. Not the monsters, oh no, it was the Alliance infestation. He'd get word from the guards and vendors at the Mill, that little 'children' like him get picked off easily by roaming Alliance looking for a bit of fun. Why they'd go for the obviously-incapable-of-anything people who were at Hillsbrad just because it was conveniently close to Undercity, he did not know. Maybe they were bored?

He always told himself, They wouldn't go after him he wasn't important enough for a second thought. Maybe he was right, maybe he was just here at the wrong time… He could imagine all the other Horde lurking behind trees, hiding behind rocks, waiting for the guards to stop screaming in pain as they were slain.

Donelzane's glowing emerald eyes loitered towards the Forsaken rogue's body. He was also here at the wrong time. 'I bet he's resurrected at the graveyard. Why don't these monsters kill me too? It'd be so much more convenient,' he thought. Suddenly the Kal'dorei's armoured hand cupped his chin from behind, forcing his vision away from the corpse to the elf's silvery eyes. Donelzane tried to break the eye contact, but it was like he was being enchanted by the hypnotic gaze of his unevolved cousin. The warrior spoke in Common, something he didn't recognize, but as his sentence drew slowly out of his mouth it morphed into a different language. He didn't understand that one well either. Darnassian. He heard Night Elves spoke Darnassian, their original language. The language that was the building block of Thalassian. That's probably why he understood one phrase...

"…Get on your knees…"

What…? The Sin'dorei was taken aback by the surprise of the words that came out of the Night Elf's mouth, his voice humming at the priest's ear, making him shiver. But he was given no choice, the Kal'dorei's voice went back to speaking Common as he looked up at the Draenei.

"I think he knows what we're gunna do. Feel free," said Arcelare to Kasteus, and let go of the little Sin'dorei.

Kasteus nodded once and looked down at the elf in his hands, "Good. Might h'as well see hees worth." And then the paladin pushed the priest backwards to Arcelare, who grabbed the smaller elf's shoulders shh'ing him gently as both elves watched Kasteus. Arcelare whispered in Darnassian, half-ass Thalassian, again, "Knees. Mr. Paladin gets cross easily." He said slowly so the Sin'dorei could pick up the idea of his words.

The priest shook his head 'no', and as he watched the paladin's large blue hands unbuckle his plated belt and take the latches and ties off his equally metallic pants. Arcelare held the priest more sternly, wrapping an arm around his front. The Sin'dorei closed his eyes and shook his head more fiercely, pushing away from the Draenei, but the Kal'dorei behind him was like trying to move a stone wall.

Arcelare pushed the priest forward hard, forcing the elf to his hands and knees with a grunt. His fist once again wove through the light blonde hair, forcing his head up to look at the two Alliance with petrified eyes. They both heard the elf stutter something in muffled, broken Orcish. But, like the elf realized he was talking in Orc, he changed his voice to Thalassian and looked at Arcelare.

"I… I don't.. w-want….."

The priest had tears streaming down his face now. "Please."

The warrior looked at the Sin'dorei, clearly intrigued by the look of innocence. After a moment he looked at Kasteus, interrupting his action, "This priest is making the situation very difficult. Just look at his face," he chuckled, and looked down at the elf's sobbing eyes. "It makes me want to fuck him until he begs for death."

"Now, now, Arcelare. My mastar always told me 'Be kind to those less fortunate', I'm sure yours vould say no different. I'll let you have the elf if you buy him at the Auction House. Bidders vould like a virgin."

"Who said YOU were in charge? I found him." Arcelare twisted his fist in the priest's hair and finished Kasteus' job and dove his hand into the Draenei's pants, freeing his thick cock from it's confines. The paladin did nothing nor said anything, but observed the warrior's hand. The Kal'dorei knelt down slightly so he could be closer to the priest's face, though still a few feet from him giving the major size difference in the first place.

"I don't think the priest's ever done this before."

"Mmm, vhy don't you show him?"

"… You are a bastard."

Arcelare grinned up at Kasteus and squeezed his hand around the paladin's dick. As usual, Kasteus didn't make any motions at all. The Night Elf slowly started to pump his hand up and down the length of the Draenei. "At least try to put on a show."

"That's no vorries. You already look like a voman except vith facial hair," joked the Draenei as he watched Arcelare fist him. The Kal'dorei frowned in displeasure and scratched his thumbnail over the tip of the paladin's cock, making the Draenei also grimace. "It vas a joke."

Once Arcelare saw a few drops of pre-cum drip from the tip of the Draenei's cock, his frown turned upside down. He turned his face towards the priest, who was watching in complete horror as the Kal'dorei worked his hand on the Draenei's length. "Priest," he said, not bothering to switch from Common, startling said priest out of his state of disgust, dragging his eyes over to Arcelare's. "You're going to be in the call-girl business for a while, take a lesson."

The warrior leaned forward and licked his long tongue over the paladin's dick before he took it into his mouth smoothly. He sucked a few times and began slowly moving his head back and forth, saliva soon coating the blue skin, darker blue because of the arousal beginning to fester, he moaned over the long member in his mouth, the vibration making Kasteus pet Arcelare's hair. The Night Elf brought his spare hand up to massage the remaining length, and down to the paladin's testicles, fondling them a moment. He pulled back after a minute, swallowing the slick pre-cum starting to smear the inside of his mouth, licking the blue hardness in his hand once more and looking over at the Sin'dorei. "Your turn."

Arcelare gave the Draenei a few more pumps before he backed away and forced the Sin'dorei forward.

Donelzane was forced to watch this. He couldn't find the mind to look away, shut his eyes, plug his ears. The Night Elf constantly twisted his hand in his hair, pulling strands out of their roots, every time he did something with his mouth onto the Draenei's penis. It dripped down the Kal'dorei's chin, the same stuff coating the paladin's cock. He'd never seen this… situation. Heard about it, he'd seen hookers and prostitutes around Silvermoon, Orgrimmar, even in Undercity. He never thought to think it out, what happens to those who sell themselves, why they do it, how they live with the thought that they go out everyday to have sex with men, women, whoever has the money to buy them for a few minutes, maybe hours, maybe a whole night.

He'd find out now. The inner-turmoil that really goes on within those wanderers.

The Kal'dorei held his head by the hair, the Draenei watched in anticipation, and Donelzane was pushed forward. The Draenei took over, shooing the warrior's hand away from the priest's hair. And grabbed one thin shoulder and laid his big hand over the priest's head, almost in a reassuring way. He felt the paladin move his hips forward and his leaking member pushing against Donelzane's lips. He quickly moved his head away and denied the paladin.

The Draenei shook his head in disappointment and took his hand off of the elf's shoulder to once more cup his chin. And abruptly forced himself through the priest's lips and through his teeth, quickly suffocating Donelzane with the immense girth. And pulled out. The priest fell forward, retching at the taste and how it touched the back of his mouth. He felt the elf behind him grab both his wrists and hold them together behind his back, forbidding him from basically any movement. But the paladin grabbed the back of his head and forced himself into his mouth again.

And then the paladin grabbed both sides of his head and started thrusting in and out of his mouth, cries and sobbing was all that was heard. The Kal'dorei grabbed his hips and rubbed his crotch against his rear, probably imagining the most sinful thoughts about the priest, keeping one hand tied around the elf's thin wrists. The taste, it was foul and sticky in his mouth. And the feeling of the warrior rubbing against him from behind was all the more violating. Why didn't the warrior just get it over with, take off his clothes and fuck him. Was he just playing around? The Draenei sure wasn't, beneath that seemingly-kind exterior there was a beast. Fucking his mouth as hard as he dared. Maybe they were going to do something to him afterward. Hopefully kill him.

At last, the Draenei made a sound, muffled as it was, he moaned slightly. Donelzane cried rivers, his eyes stinging and red, his throat was beginning to get sore, and he felt his spirit slowly waning. The paladin thrust more harshly into his small mouth, skull fucking him hard.

The priest guessed he was nearing a climax. He begged the paladin would pull out before that. The Kal'dorei's claws ripping through his black robes he got from Shadowfang Keep, scratching his skin and biting the back of his neck. It was all just too much, and Donelzane fell into a deep endless hole of despair and sadness, unable to think of anything other than the intense misery that he was feeling at this very moment.

He barely registered the creamy liquid dripping down his chin before he realized the Draenei had shot an explosion of semen in his mouth, chocking him. He pulled back with all his remaining strength and coughed endlessly, white sperm trickling down his face, a few more shots landed on his face and hair. He paid no mind, all he wanted was the disgusting taste out of his mouth and the two Alliance off of him!

Kasteus gasped slightly, looking down at the coughing elf and the Kal'dorei hugging his back. "He… ees not bad." The Draenei laughed softly, putting himself away and fastening his belt. "We should come back another time and pick up more of these Horde."

Arcelare chuckled and pulled the priest against his chest, licking his neck and up his cheek, tasting the Draenei's cum. "And he's so girly. He'll sell right away. I just wish I had the time to look after a pet, he'd just die in my cellar. Fearing my arrival everyday, where I'd walk down the steps to his cage. Starving and thirsting. Begging for death, for which I will not permit." Arcelare's hand wove patterns on the priest's clothed chest, soiled with semen. And his blonde hair messy with dirt and more semen. "What a mess."

The Kal'dorei saw the priest had a blank stare, looking at the floor where a puddle of white seed pooled. His eyes having less shine, less brilliance. And he just slouched against the warrior, silent tears seeping from his eyes to mix with the sperm.

Quite abruptly, heavy footsteps crashed up the stairs, startling the Night Elf and the Draenei. But they relaxed slightly when they looked towards the door to see Vackett and Rahn, gasping for air and sopping wet from the rain that was still pouring outside.

"Hey! Where the fuck were you guys?! We've been--…. Hey what'cha got there, long-ears?" spoke the rogue, walking up closer towards the small blonde huddled between the paladin and the warrior. His eyes shot open in surprise when he recognized it, "Horde!" Vackett quickly drew his daggers.

Kasteus stepped in front of the two elves suddenly, towering over the smaller human. "You will not harm this elf. We are selling him."

Vackett looked up at the paladin, quizzing his motives. "What? Why? He's just filthy scum not worth a coppers coin! Put him out of his misery!"

Rahn stood at the door, just observing the situation in front of him. "I think they want to sell the Blood Elf. Looks like you've just test drove him."

Vackett looked behind him at the warlock, "Why would you want to sell a Blood Elf? They're EVERYwhere! The little roaches." He glared down at the priest, covered in white semen, which just grossed out the rogue even more. And then he snapped up and looked at Arcelare. "Oh yeah. There's Horde arriving. Heavily loaded. We nearly got cut down a few times, those bitches think they can kill me." He laughed.

Rahn walked towards the group. "We have to get out of here."

Arcelare nodded and stood up, holding the Blood Elf against his chest and lifting him over his shoulder. Motioning for the others to follow as he ran out the door, down the steps and into the rain. There were indeed Horde. Lots. Searching for them, before a very large Tauren hunter spotted them.

"There they are!"

There was another Blood Elf, a mage, covered in white and blue clothing with a glowing crown over his head and a glowing staff in his hand ready for battle. "Wait! They have a hostage!"

But before anything else was said, Rahn stepped forward in the muck and rain and raised his hands. "Flee." And sent out a loud demonic shout, a heavy wave of fear sent through the hearts of the Horde forces. When they all recovered the Alliance and the unidentified hostage were gone. Off to Southshore.

END.

A/N: There will be another/more chapters. R&R plz 3


	2. Chapter 2

I'd like to say first, when I started this story it was pre-WOTLK. So when I asked my friend is there a boat in Menethil Harbor to SWC and he said no. So it's too late, the boat is gone and replaced to go to Valgarde _ So… for the sake of my story THERE IS a boat to Stormwind!! T_T Sum bitch Blizzard

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You can always count on the government leader, right? He or she was elected because they know what they're doing, what they speak of, and have the experience. They should know how to run a nation, an empire even, yet still be democratic and uncontrolling… The common person would know that their leader was leader for a reason, a good reason. The leader of the Horde was a good leader, some would say. Thrall. Previous slave, now a king among his people is the inspiration for all.

Today, some people's praise upon Thrall will be shaken and possibly broken for his decisions for the better of his empire.

"Please! I need to speak with Warchief Thrall! It's urgent!" cried one man, trying to move into the regal building where Thrall did his work. Guards and guards lined the pathway inside, neither would allow him inside. "Please!"

The big Orc guardian grunted and shoved the small man away, "I said no, elf! Our Warchief is already preoccupied! Go away!"

The mage was pushed away and nearly fell to the ground. He looked up at the Orc with angry glowing eyes and gripped his long white staff tightly. "You dare! All I want is two minutes!"

There was a sound of gentle clopping, and then the small Sin'dorei mage felt a large paw on his shoulder. "Save your anger, elf…," said the Tauren hunter. The Tauren looked at the Orc guardian and saluted him. "I am Ambassador Teratore of Mulgore, guardian. I request audience with Warchief Thrall, please," he asked quietly and politely.

The elf stepped away, but his glare didn't cease on the Orc. He more-or-less decided to shield himself behind the hunter.

The Orc stood straight and saluted the Tauren. "Lok'tar, Ambassador." He shoved his sword into the dried orange dirt and stood aside, letting the Tauren access to the path up to the wooden doors. Taratore nodded and started walking up the ramp towards the noble building, slowly following was the elf. Both hoping Thrall would see justice to their situation.

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There wasn't much to hide behind if you chose to wander around in Arathi Highlands. Just a lot of bushes, but that's hardly any _good _hiding spot. It would do though. Raptors and spiders haunted every crevice of every rock and cliff. Lonely humans and orcs would either hinder you or help you, depending on whom you were to them. The chilly air would only make this mission a little more difficult because now he'd have to resist shivering and dampen his shaky breathing if he wanted to get close without being noticed.

Shielded behind a boulder was an appointed assassin, highly ranked among his fellow rogues and feared by anyone who knew his name (which was few, for they usually ended up 'missing'). Crouching good and low, he had a perfect view of the Alliance couple and their detainee. A snarl disfigured his hidden face upon sighting the prisoner, slouching and depressed with bonds wrapped around his bloody wrist. Alliance animals… It always made him furious to see this happen to his comrade in blood, another Sin'dorei. But instead of whisper curses to himself, he controlled his breath and concentrated back on the situation. They were moving forward again, so he took the opportunity to move from behind the boulder to hugging the bark of a tall tree with his back.

His mission was to follow these men and find out where they were taking their Blood Elf hostage. Albeit these were wannabe orders from Tarren Mill he received, further instruction was soon to follow. He'd seen it happen, the four raiders in the Mill, and he was also caught in that fucking warlock's fear effect. If not he would have taken out that annoying human… Anyways, that was then. He was hot on their tale and had a good idea where they were going. And it wasn't anyplace a Blood Elf would be welcomed, or Horde in general.

---

Donelzane glared ferociously at his captors from behind. Florescent green eyes squinted angrily at the back of the head of the warrior. Dismissingly rubbing his cheek on his shoulder, trying to get rid of the crusty semen he could still taste on his skin. His eyes fell off of the Night Elf and travelled down his long body to the dirt they were walking on. It passed his shoes quickly, since they were obviously in a hurry to get into Alliance territory. He wondered if someone was coming to save him. Or not.

His legs felt weak, his ankles starting to get sore and bruised, and his feet dragged through the gravel. The depression of being caught, chained, and dragged along like a slave was starting to become heavy on his shoulders. He closed his eyes and let the other elf drag him along, shallow prayers all that was mumbled from him.

He nearly tripped when his chain was yanked, and he slipped on some wet mud, nearly falling if it wasn't for the panther mount at his side. He fell against the Night Elf's mount and grabbed it's saddle, steadying himself. But as soon as he touched the cat's purple fur it whipped it's head to the side and roared at him, showing off long fangs. He quickly released the feline and frowned slightly.

"Keep moving, idiot," growled the Night Elf and tugged once more on his chain. Donelzane grunted and yelped slightly as he nearly fell over his feet again, avoiding collision with the panther again. He bared his teeth at the Night Elf and swore under his breath gently. He'd curse these two to the death… Especially that warrior. If he wasn't being 'toyed' with, he'd say that the Draenei was far more favourable than his companion. But, seeing the situation, he'd rather die than be around the duo.

Off in the near distance he heard an electric screech, and looked to where he heard it coming from. He made a little yip at the sight of a large orange raptor stomping their way. The animal waved its head and screeched again, running at him. The panther hissed and it's fur bristled, but of course the Night Elf sprang forth in front of him and slashed the animal once across its chest. Blood sprayed from the raptor's body and it fell to the ground roaring and twitching as it crawled around in pain. Seconds later it stopped moving all together. Donelzane's face turned sad, a frown passed his face and his eyebrows dipped upwards in apology.

The warrior elf whirled his head, flipping his hair around, and growled something malicious at the priest. By his expression he wasn't too pleased with the Blood Elf… The other elf turned and chatted with the paladin, obviously discussing about him by the hand gestures pointed towards him.

Yet another screech was heard. Another raptor was charging at Donelzane. He heard the warrior snarl and jump at the incoming beast. It too died in a bloody manner, all before the priest's eyes. Donelzane backed away and tried distancing himself from the two Alliance. He wasn't suppose to be here. Where were they going? If it's through Arathi Highlands… And if they passed the crossroad at the center of the county, they were going south. To Wetlands? What's there…? A shipyard?

The Draenei chuckled and walked forward. The Night Elf hurried behind him, pulling Donelzane and the panther with him. But the priest tugged back on his chain when the warrior dragged him behind. He saw the glistening eyes that bore daggers through him, and the Kal'dorei snarled, forcefully tugging back. The Sin'dorei nearly lost his balance and broke his neck at the harsh haul, falling forward back in step with the two Alliance. He barely whimpered at the distraught, but there was nothing he could do anymore. Just be a slave like this for the rest of his life, maybe.

---

Some time later, after he felt the soles of his boots were meshed and filled with holes, Donelzane saw in the distance an ebbing glow. A warm glow against the lonely dark night sky. A city. He glared darkly when he realized it would only be an Alliance city, or town, whatever. He was now short of breath, and sore, bruised ankles and bleeding skin. He might have felt shame that among his Horde tribesmen, like the Tauren or Trolls, it was the Sin'dorei who couldn't go for more than a day of continuous walking or some other exercise, except those trained paladins or other. He shrugged it away, and didn't care to compare himself with the other ugly-looking brutish races.

"Ah!" he hissed, and quickly stumbled to get his foot off of whatever sharp thing he stepped on. A rock, probably, but he couldn't see in this dark nor would the two Alliance allow him to straggle to see what it was. But, it hurt. He might be bleeding, his new cut open and dirtied by the wet dirt of the swampy Wetlands. He started to limp slightly, because every time his foot touched the ground it called out to him!

When they got to this town it was, obviously, filled to the brim with Humans, and Dwarves. The guards spotted him hiding between the two far taller men, and ran towards him with their swords drawn and shields raised. Donelzane let out a small squeak at the aggressive Humans and stumbled backwards, refusing to go with the two Alliance captors. Quickly, the Night Elf stepped in front of him and stretched his arm to cover the Sin'dorei more. He shouted in Common at the guards, and they came to a stop while wearing a dark scorn on their faces looking at the smaller elf. They exchanged heated words with each other that Donelzane didn't know, but he guessed the warrior was arguing with the two guards. He looked to his side and saw the Draenei did nothing but observe the interruption before himself.

The guards jerked at one sentence the Kal'dorei said, and they pushed the elf out of the way to get to the shabby-looking priest. The guard heaved his blade up to strike down at the petrified priest. The Draenei pushed the guard away and grabbed his wrist holding the claymore, and glared down at the man with deep seething hatred, however subtle it was, and looked down at the beaten Night Elf. The big Draenei spoke with the guard in his hold in an unusually soft, calm voice. The other guard looked ready to fight the paladin for freedom of its comrade in uniform.

Donelzane backed away from the montage of people, and thought, since they're all occupied… The panther growled and roared at the two Humans trying to apprehend the animal's owner, not paying attention to the Blood Elf anymore. So the young elf backed away, trying to get away and hide in the dark, and go back to Hillsbrad. No wait… He'd never return to Hillsbrad every again! But, he stepped on his chain and it jerked, the steel cracking against itself, making a horrible metallic sound. They all looked at him simultaneously. The Night Elf shoved the Human off of himself and grabbed the Sin'dorei by the scruff of his robes (what was left of them anyways), and looked at the others and shouted once more in Common language. Donelzane struggled against the superior elf, and tried kicking and shoving him off.

One of the guards approached him suddenly, but instead of pulling the Sin'dorei away the Night Elf pushed him towards the Human. He caught himself against the Human's chest, his chains rattling against the plate the guard wore, and Donelzane shivered as the Human's hands took his arms forcefully. He didn't look up, he kept his eyes down at his shackled hands laying on the guard's chest, and waited to see if he was to be decapitated, struck, or released after a quick inspection. Donelzane could feel the heat of the Human's scrutinizing, glaring stare on him, looking him over. He whimpered sharply as his head snapped back when the Human grabbed one of his ears and turned his head to look at the tall man.

Despite his position he glared darkly at the Human.

----

Arcelare frowned at how harsh the guard was treating his little prize. But the Human wouldn't have any of the 'he was stranded and abandoned and we're taking care of him' act. He'd been trying to keep himself between the guard and the elf, but these Humans weren't hired as guards for just any reason, even for him they hit hard and pushed roughly. The only thing he could do was let the guard inspect the Sin'dorei for any threat. Luckily, the Human wasn't so worried about what damage the little newbie priest could be capable of, but more concerned for what influence the Blood Elf might have. If you know what he meant.

"How do you know there's no one chasing after this disgusting turn-coat?" spat the Human that was inspecting the priest. "There might be an army at your feet, and they might come after him. If that's the case here, Night Elf, I won't have this sickening Horde in the town, for the sake of all its citizens."

Arcelare frowned. He didn't know if anyone was following them either. But, he wouldn't allow this snooping guard to ruin his chance at some GOOD money in weeks. So he smiled kindly and bowed deep, "Why, surely there's not a soul on Azeroth or beyond that would have a care for this pathetic creature, kind sir…"

"Piss off. That elfish sarcasm maddens me further than those pointy ears," snarled the Human with a dark look, making his face distort into a menacing glare. He was obviously not one who would house any sort of elf, Blood Elf or Night Elf.

Arcelare's eye twitched at the remark, and he bared his teeth at the guard from behind his long shiny bangs that hung over his face because he was still bent in a bow. He recovered his small sliver of sanity he still harboured during his years, and straightened to smile down at the Human. "Sir, I didn't mean any harm… I'm just trying to say, this immaterial scavenging Sin'dorei would impact no one's life. He's an orphaned abandoned child we passed upon on a patrol of Hillsbrad Foothills. By any means, I wish to take him to Darnassus and have him taken care of before we send him back to whichever hellhole life he once lived."

The Human's glare didn't cease in any way and still didn't appear to accept the lie Arcelare tried to feed him. Kasteus was still at the side, but he still had his large fingers lain on the hilt of his mace, just in case there was another physical argument between Arcelare and the Humans. The Draenei had his glowing eyes on the priest and the guard, watching to make sure nothing would come about.

"Hm…," contemplated the haggard old looking man, and looked down at the elf who was still shivering in his arms. He still had his head pulled back and could now look deep into those jade blazing eyes that were burning deep cavities into the Human's face. "Revolting Fel-energy users…," snarled the guard, and twisted the elf around and shoved him violently back with the Draenei and the Night Elf.

Arcelare caught the elf in his arms and wrapped his hands around so they latched onto the Sin'dorei, just in case. He soothed and cooed in the priest's ear, patting his hair and rubbing his back as if he were a child. He felt the Sin'dorei shudder and coil against Arcelare, as if looking for shelter. The Night Elf chuckled low and embraced the tattered priest.

"Take the elf, and get him _out_ of this place as soon as the sun rises," shunned the one Human guard and stepped aside to allow a path into the sleeping hamlet. He didn't look too happy at all. The warrior stepped beside the smaller elf to escort him through the gates, shielding him from the fuming glare coming from the Human's aged brown eyes.

---

Donelzane didn't notice it, but he stepped closer to the tall Night Elf when the other pulled his thin arm. He'd never been inside an Alliance city, and knew he shouldn't. Ever since he was a young toddler, his parents and teachers always, _always reminded him that if he'd ever seen the golden lion on a blue tabard that he was to turn and run the other way. If he was to ever see a Human, or a Night Elf, or any other Alliance member, he was to flee. For now that is. Even he himself knew that one day… he would be able to take on two or three of them at once._

_That day was so far away… it made Donelzane weary of even thinking how long his journey would be. But the reward would be tremendous._

_Yet he was still a coward. It would be that way for the rest of his life, he guessed. Like at Tarren Mills, quivering and sobbing for mercy, it made him hang his head in shame as they walked into the barely lit town._

_It was nearly no time at all before they crossed the muddy roads and found their way into a lodge he guessed was the Inn. Shrinking away from the prying eyes of inhabitants, and the hateful glares and spits he got, Donelzane tensed and waited to be shielded from everyone's eyes. But when he was pulled up the stairs of the warm-lit building which was far more presentable than the Tarren Mills Inn, he soon found that he really didn't want to be alone with the two Alliance._

_Even though the bed was cozy and soft, he found that being pushed harshly backwards onto the springy mattress and having the Night Elf stand over him like he was a small rabbit, didn't make him feel right…_

_Sudden flashes of earlier flickered through his mind and he shuddered, feeling the same intense depression starting to fall over his thoughts. Where they going to assault him again? Maybe together this time? Or maybe they'd finally take off his pants and rape him…? He tried digging farther into the comfortable sheets as the other male elf descended on him._

_---_

_Arcelare pushed the priest into the room and grabbed his arms, guiding his body towards the large King-sized bed where he gave him a little shove and the unstable Sin'dorei fell on his back, bouncing on the bed before he looked to try and slither away. Arcelare grabbed the man's thin ankle and held him there as he began crawling onto the bed._

_A sinister grin pulled at his face as he neared the shocked priest. He held the small elf down with a hand to his chest and both his legs keeping him cornered and pinned. He put a finger under the priest's chin and kissed him lightly on the mouth, snickering at him when he shook his head and refused Arcelare._

"_Hey, Kasteus, mind leaving us?" he called behind him at the Draenei. The paladin shrugged and agreed, saying a short comment about how he was going to re-supply their bags. The click of the door closing was all that was heard, and in the silence Arcelare finally had the vulnerable Blood Elf to himself. His white eyes looked at the Sin'dorei's face, and saw not only fear and anxiety but he noticed that there was still remnants of last night all over his skin and hair._

"_Oh, you filthy whore," scrutinized Arcelare as he put both his gloved hands on either side of the elf's face, leaning in once more to kiss him without the gentleness of before. He felt the other mumble and squirm under him as he did this, and it only caused him to become more feral. He ripped the remaining shreds of clothing from the priest's body, leaving him with a few dangling silver liners from the Robes of Arugal hanging off his shoulders. He forced a heavier kiss on the Blood Elf, pulling his chin down so the other's lips parted and he was allowed to invade his mouth with a tongue._

_Arcelare growled and reached down to grab the smaller man's knees and pulled it up his body to the warrior's hips, pushing abruptly against his rear. One of his hands twisted in blonde hair and forced the priest's head to tilt up so he could get more of his tongue inside his mouth. He felt the other fight back, twisting his body and crying out. His screams were only sucked into Arcelare's mouth though, so no one could hear him. Arcelare made a pleasured groan against the priest's mouth as he rocked his hard length hidden inside his metallic armor against the backside of the elf._

_The one beneath him struggled and fought, trying to push the Night Elf away from his face. And Arcelare suddenly tasted copper blood when his tongue was bitten. He pulled his tongue out of the Blood Elf's mouth and licked at his lips, smearing a little red on the smaller man's mouth. Just as quick as he'd pulled away did Arcelare dive in again and ravage the other man's mouth, being violent enough that when he bit at this skin it turned red all around his lips. Both their saliva drooled down the priest's chin to his neck where it was smeared by Arcelare's hands as they mapped their way around his body._

_---_

_Donelzane blushed hard and hot when the Night Elf insisted harder, putting his hands where they didn't belong and sticking his tongue where he shouldn't have it. To be true he'd never had any sort of sexual experiences in his young life so far, so when rough fingers weaved his skin and touched him intimately, albeit harsh and rapist-like, he couldn't help but groan into the other's mouth._

_He cried out a little each time the other rocked against him, probably finding great pleasure in his tiny body frame and imagining the same wicked thoughts that the Night Elf thought back in Hillsbrad Foothills. His hands punched and pushed at the Kal'dorei's shoulder, bruising his knuckles as he did this, and asserted his means to escape even though he still wore the shackles around his arms. He could only feel impending pain when he realized the Draenei had left them alone in the room._

_The warrior suddenly slithered one of his hands up the priest's thigh towards his groin, and he blushed even harder and shouted protests into the Kal'dorei's mouth when leather-covered fingers slipped under the remaining of his tattered robes around his waist. He tore his mouth away and sucked in air, gasping heavily, and then cried out. The warrior slapped his palm on Donelzane's mouth, muffling out his screaming. The other elf glared darkly at him and then the Blood Elf could hear the other man rip off his gauntlet and drop it off the side of the bed._

_Donelzane shrieked in surprise when cold fingers tickled at his rear and thighs. Then the warrior's hand started massaging the muscles near his crotch. Donelzane scurried his hands down and tried to pull his ripped clothing back over his dignity, trying to block out the Night Elf's prying hands._

_Newly found tears stung at his shut eyes as the older elf didn't cease to violate his body, his sobs inspired by the frustration of not being able to get the warrior off him!_

_Abruptly the Night Elf took his big hand and wrapped it around both his little wrists, squeezing them until they'd bruise later, and smashed them against the bedstead, making Donelzane cry out and shut his eyes tighter to withhold beads of tears from falling down his face. He wriggled around, trying to desperately free his arms and get the Night Elf out from between his legs. But it was all so futile. The Kal'dorei was a warrior. He was a priest. There's no way he could overpower him…_

_He gasped slightly when a part of the chain that attached his shackles were wound around a wooden post and hung up on one of the wooden poles supporting the bed's frame. Donelzane grit his teeth and resisted from crying out in pain and depression, instead letting hot tears steam down his cheeks, making welts across his face sting. His arms burned each passing moment that he tried pulling on them, so he decided to stay as stiff as possible when he once more felt the warrior's hands on him._

_---_

_Arcelare smiled warmly down at the other elf when he leaned down to run his finger tips across the soft skin. When he did this, his smile nearly widened, because the tattered priest tensed beneath him and made a quiet noise that he could only distinguish as a whimper of helplessness. Arcelare's eyes couldn't help but realize just how cute the Blood Elf looked, all tied up, shredded clothes, bloodied skin, and that same look of repulsive defiance in his scared face._

_He growled aggressively at that look, grabbing a hold of blonde hair and twisted it in his grasp, making the elf scream in pain before he bit his teeth together to keep back his anguish. Arcelare leaned down and nearly bit the other's ear when he snarled hoarsely, "You don't know how much I want to fuck you, do you?"_

_But he couldn't. He 'wasn't permitted' anymore. That bastard Kasteus… if only he hadn't proposed selling a virgin ass. That's all that was on both their minds, money. Okay, damn them both. But it was so unbelievable how hard this priest made him, it was painful in both the aspect that he couldn't relieve himself inside the small elf, nor could he have him for his own. But he'd still have his fun, for damn sure._

_And dammit if he didn't make the Sin'dorei enjoy it with him. What better way to torture someone then make them take pleasure in something they honestly didn't want?_

_A sly grin marked the presence of mischief in the Kal'dorei when he flicked a few black threadbare rags off of the remaining of the Blood Elf's body, leaving him other words naked. It was for the first time did Arcelare come to skim over the build of the priest. He was, like most of his race, slender and androgynous-like. Tell-tale masculinity showed through though, even though he had a girly face, his shoulders were broad and his hips more narrower than a female's. Some might not be able to tell though if they looked at the Sin'dorei from behind. The elf bared no scars, yet, and had no deformity or impurity. He was perfectly beautiful. His messy blonde hair, and bloody wrists and face only added to his beauty, though Arcelare._

_He started off by gently guiding his hands over the dips of the Sin'dorei's ribs, rubbing his thumbs over his lightly-muscled pectorals, letting his nails slide against his nipples. He felt the elf below him shudder slightly at the feeling. Then his fingers went down the front of his body, from his neck to his pelvis, and partially down his smooth legs. Arcelare's grin widened at the response he got. The Blood Elf's face turned a darker shade of red, and he shut his eyes to look away from him. He was obviously liking this, hm? Perfect._

_Arcelare moved himself over the Blood Elf, getting on his knees and hands, watching the elf watch him as he did this. His always-present smirk played itself when he leaned his head down, took the priest's face gently with both his hands, and kissed him. Not harshly this time, but passionately and tender, a kiss a lover would give to their mate. Often times he'd practise on Kasteus, and soon turned this loving kiss into his seductive weapon. He kissed the side of the priest's mouth where he'd bitten him, sucking gently at the blood stains there. What's more is he didn't feel much resistance if any from the elf. So he continued. Wrapping his lips around the other's yet not suffocating him, and let his tongue flick out to tease the other._

_Beneath his hands he felt the Sin'dorei's jaw lock, fearing Arcelare would intrude upon his mouth again maybe. Arcelare snickered to himself, and tantalized one of his hands down the elf's neck, his mouth soon following his gentle touch. He rubbed a thumb over the priest's neck, and kissed under his jaw. He then began to suck under the other's ear, and was prized with a quick gasp. The Sin'dorei flinched under him, rubbing his legs against Arcelare, and made a short groan._

_Arcelare had found a sweet spot. He stroked his wet tongue over that spot, licking and sucking and biting. The other elf squirmed under him, making small noises Arcelare would categorize as moaning. The priest was good at hiding it for the most part, though. That only meant more game for Arcelare._

_He sat up for a few seconds to undo the clasps and buckles of his armor, taking it off and letting them join his gauntlets on the ground. He saw that the Sin'dorei was watching him cautiously as he did this, keeping those burning eyes on him as he shrugged off his linen shirt. Arcelare liked the other watching him undress, if he knew the priest only did it for safety's sake he would have thought the Blood Elf would enjoy it. That is up until he would molest the priest some more._

_Arcelare leaned back down and licked at the Blood Elf's neck, to his collar bone, and down his chest. He occupied his hands by tenderly massaging the tight muscles on the other's back, pulling the priest closer to him, letting their bare skin touch each other. Arcelare heard the smaller elf's breathing become more deep and lax, and felt his body become less tense beneath his rough hands. He could feel how cold the Sin'dorei was, his skin was chilly against Arcelare's chest. He'd only have to warm him up then._

_He enchanted the priest further, sucking at the crook of his shoulder and neck, playing with his smooth blonde hair, and slipping his knee up between the elf's legs. Often times he'd hear small whimpers and cries, other times the Sin'dorei would full out moan, leaning his head back and allowing himself to be pleasured. Arcelare didn't smirk nor laugh, instead he'd treat the priest well tonight, even though a few minutes ago he was hell-bent on taking the elf weather he liked it or not. Nope, that wasn't the 'diplomatic' way, he would convince the priest into his arms; to trust him. Until they got to Stormwind City, that is…_

_---_

_Donelzane gasped as the Night Elf nuzzled his face against his neck, sucking and licking with his hot mouth. He shut his eyes and groaned against his will. He was swearing and cussing in his mind, hating himself for liking this, hating the warrior for making him like this. It felt nice, real nice, having bliss swim though his veins wherever the warrior touched him. It was almost as pleasurable as having the power of the Sunwell's heat pulse and swarm him…_

_He moaned aloud sharply when the Night Elf's mouth went down further to a dip in his left hip, his tongue tickling another of Donelzane's sweet spots. He squirmed a little, not noticing he pushed harder against the warrior. His head went so light-weight he feared he'd pass out, so he grabbed the wooden bar his shackles were wrapped around, and braced himself for more of this Alliance's 'torture'. He couldn't help moaning once more when the warrior teased that spot above his hip, and bit his lip to stop making these embarrassing sounds, squeezing the wood post harder in his fingers._

_The bed creaked slightly, and Donelzane felt the mattress shift as the warrior on top of him moved to lean off the bed. He heard the rustling of cloth and assumed it was one of the warrior's bags. He didn't open his eyes to look though, he didn't want to know if it was some crazed toy or something. The Night Elf resumed his position of towering over him soon after though. There was a small pop that sounded like a cork coming off of a bottle. Donelzane's eyebrows creased together in wonderment._

_Abruptly, the Night Elf's thumb rubbed down his cheek to his jaw, but it wasn't a normal touch, his skin was slick with a liquid that tingled Donelzane's skin. It was so warm, and taunting, that he couldn't help lean his head slightly towards the warrior's hand. He heard the bigger elf make a short chuckle at him, nestling his vermillion hand to cup Donelzane's face. Another hand came to his face, the same tingly fingers stroking his face. Two of the warrior's large fingers found themselves tracing Donelzane's lips, the warmth from them almost made him groan. He leaned his head sideways and tenuously touched his tongue to a finger, and he was granted rapture as it spread though his mouth. He moaned at that, and unconsciously started licking at the skin._

_He swathed his mouth around the warrior's finger and sucked at it, moaning again. It was so distinguishable a taste that he'd recognize it any place. The Kal'dorei must have had a mana potion in his bag, but this essence of the mana potion was far stronger than the ones Donelzane would carry with him. It was so concentrated with power and rhapsody that Donelzane didn't want to let the taste go. Another finger snaked itself into his mouth, and he generously licked at it also, letting the potion drip onto his tongue and into his body. He could feel his heart race at the addictive extract, involuntarily rubbing himself against the warrior, pulling him closer into his body with his legs around his hips._

_He whined wantonly as those fingers left his mouth, his lips following after them until he couldn't go any farther. He opened his eyes to squint up at the Night Elf, looking away in shame at what he'd done. He looked to the side and saw the swirling vigour of the blue potion sitting on the stand beside the bed. His eyes were fixated on it, so much he didn't see the warrior's hands going farther down his body. A teasing finger sketched down his stomach that alerted Donelzane. He hissed at the ecstasy following the Night Elf's touch, and groaned in his chest, once again squeezing the wooden post._

_Donelzane squeezed his eyes shut once he felt those hands on his thighs, again they provoked him to shudder as they went up his legs towards his more sacred parts of his body. He made a helplessly mortified look when he was touched, whimpering at the warming orgasmic feel he got from the brew of magic the warrior had on his hands. What a dirty trick, he thought…_

_But he couldn't help it, he was lost in the pleasure of it all. Stars danced across his eyes when he was touched just right, he would moan and sob at every trace of those fingers. _

_Unexpectedly he strained out a cry when one of the Night Elf's fingers slipped inside him, smoothly but not gentle, lubricated by the potion. He pushed off the bed at the sensation, it was pure pleasure he felt, and he knew it was all because of that drug of a potion! He moaned loudly, pushing down on the finger, wanting more of it. His heart raced, and he felt so hot it was unbelievable, warmth and rapture spreading from the warrior's finger to his groin and brain, making him numb. Not too soon after, he felt another slither inside him also, the same ecstasy spreading though him. He jumped when those fingers in him curved and twisted around, making the weirdest spectacle of pleasure Donelzane had known so far. He buried his face in his arm to keep his voice down as he came near to screaming in delight. He drove his body down on the fingers impaling him, over and over, moving with no consent from his better judgement._

_He soon found his voice escalading and his moaning more drawn out and loud, tingling went up and down his legs and into his stomach, and he was about to reach wit's end in what he guessed would be his orgasm._

_He cracked open his eyes to stare between his legs at the muscled arm that went up to the Night Elf's torso. Donelzane was so lost in his pool of excitement he didn't realize he was thinking he wanted to touch the Kal'dorei until he had already thought it. He gasped and moaned again, and looked at the warrior's face. He saw that ridiculous smirk on the other's face, his eyes sharp and intense as he watched Donelzane bounce on his large fingers. Donelzane leaned his head back and yelped brusquely when the warrior leaned his fingers in and touched some place in him that it wanted him to melt away, noticing how he felt electric pleasure when the muscles around the Night Elf's fingers tightened._

_He looked though his liquid haze and saw that he was hard, his length springing as he unwillingly was tranced by the Kal'dorei's cheap trick, rocking his hips to a the rhythm of his panting. And then he felt an immense heat wash over him, pressure building in him as the Night Elf twirled his fingers in him, pumping in and out to the pace of his movements. Donelzane whimpered, cried and sobbed until he finally couldn't take any more of this torture. He tore his face from his arm and screamed at the ceiling, his whole world started buzzing until he couldn't see or hear anything but the throbbing of his orgasm and the powerful flowing of his muscles around the thrusting fingers in him._

_---_

_And outside the Inn, sitting between two shrubs and leaning on the brick wall, was the rogue who followed them into the Wetlands. The Blood Elf rogue was about ready to tear his ears off his bloody head! What mad torture could they be doing to the priest that would make his scream like that…? Maybe they were ripping off his nails with a knife? Or perhaps twisting his bones until they splintered? Possibly whipping him until his innards showed? The Alliance disgusted him sometimes, and he was an expert at torture…_

_So all he could do is sit outside with the dogs and crickets and listen to this poor, poor man be tormented as such. He was crazy if he'd stand here! His brother in blood was in trouble! No… Nope he can't go, would if he's caught? He hadn't scouted around to see if there were any valuable warriors that could make mincemeat out of him. Maybe he should wait for the reinforcements from Undercity? Those creaking Undead, they probably walk real slow, even their warhorses would run slow, he thought. What kind of warrior do you get from a skeleton held together by rotting cartilage and muscles?_

_The rogue, more formally known as Artris the half-baked, promiscuous, lying, backstabbing rogue, turned on his shoes and crept like a cat around the corner. He would at least try to see if his comrade was alive or not. He moved like a feather, with no sound at all on the gravel, towards the other side of the building towards the screaming he heard. He looked to his left and right, seeing no one, not even a rat. _

_Artris looked up the side of the building to the second floor, which is where he heard the blaring coming from. There was no light on, if so it would be a candle, but he knew that's where the captive priest would be. So with the agility of an acrobat, he jumped on the wall upwards and grabbed a hold of the wooden eaves, flipped backwards to jump on top of it, and all without a noise. He tip-toed towards the window that was rippled and stained with age, but kept to the hugging the wall. Watching his footings, he grabbed the wooden frame of the window and lifted himself so he could peek his head upwards a little just so he could get an eye in. And what he saw was almost enough to make him gasp aloud._

_On the bed, laying limp and dumb, was the same Sin'dorei he'd seen being kidnapped from Tarren Mills. He was tied up by the wrists, and naked? Not an arms length from the priest sat one of the Alliance cowards, leaning on an arm leisurely and looked to be dressing himself…_

_Artris ducked back down and looked into the forest, mortified. What the hell…? It's like… it's like a… Oh, Sun. He quickly bonked himself on the head and told himself not to make any conclusions as of yet. Gritting his teeth in anger, he crawled to the edge of the eavesdrop and jumped off, landing with only a shuffle of dirt and quickly went back to sitting at the wall._

_He had to save him now. At his sides his hands balled in rage, shaking uncontrollably at what he'd seen. Was that rape? Did he just witness the aftermath of some horrible, horrible transgression? He swore to himself, caught between doing what he thought the heroic thing to do, and the proper thing to do. He never had the best judgement, anyways… for an assassin…_

_So he made his way up onto the eaves again. This time he took out his daggers, both glowing ominously with enchantments. He unclipped them from his belt gently, and twirled them on his fingers shiningly before he took one and ever slightly swung it so the tip of the blade knocked the minute metal lock off it's hook and left the window swinging open. Artris backed away a few feet, and waited for the Night Elf to wander over._

_He set his jaw and thinned his lips in anticipation, his grip on his weapons coming near to hurting his palms. Artris' intense eyes glared at the empty space of the window mount. And not a few moments after he opened the window did he hear the padding of footsteps approach the sill._

_-0-0-0-_

_End of Chapter Two._

_*Insert dramatic orchestra* In a world where love and tribulations collide. When your life is no longer your own. When it is controlled by the incisive humping of elves… Will Thrall permit an onslaught against the Alliance for one Blood Elf? Will Don fall for his captor? Will Arcelare die in our next chapter? Will anyone miss him if he does?!_

_P.S. Now you know what we elves do with our mana potions. /cackle_

_P.P.S. R&R?_


	3. Chapter 3

Kasteus sat downstairs in the Inn, seated himself at an empty table and scrutinized the pages of his libram for study while he waited for Arcelare to come downstairs with that haughty, accomplished stride he always got after finishing up with someone. He looked at the symbols and drawings, with many notes written everywhere. The writing was Kasteus' tight, controlled script written at each inch of available paper, notes on the Light, notes he'd scribbled as his trainer lectured him, and notes of various importance. His study was that of retribution at the moment.

The paladin couldn't help but grin at the noises coming from upstairs, as always Arcelare was unmerciful in his tactics. It must have lasted a few minutes at the most, before he heard no more screaming, meaning the priest must have gave into the Kal'dorei. There was another minute of silence, and Kasteus expected to find the Night Elf strolling down the stairs to join the Draenei at any moment.

Not seconds after he'd finished thinking, rough grunting and steps were heard through the muffling wooden ceiling. Kasteus didn't know what to think of it at first, didn't know weather Arcelare decided to take the torture to a next step, or if either elf were in trouble… He clapped his book closed and hung it on a chain at his waist. He'd inspect either way.

* * *

Arcelare looked over his shoulder at the swinging window, and frowned. He was about to pull over his shirt, when he heard a 'clack' and the window just creaked open. How unusual, he thought. He knelt down and slowly took his long steel sword in hand, brushing his fingertips over the hilt while he approached the open window with caution. He gradually lifted his hand up towards the window's latch, and then it happened. A shadow from the corner of his eye elongated and snapped out. It was as fast as a trapdoor spider, and nearly as effective. Arcelare moved his hand with the speed of a Kal'dorei and smashed his long sword through the glass of the matching window that would clasp onto the open window. The steel sliced through the glass, easily shattering the iron bars that held the glass and the wooden frame.

He reached his free hand out and grabbed onto something, and pulled it inside the room. By the looks, what he had in his hand was a head of red hair attached to a lanky man. He threw the man inside and let go, standing at a ready pose with his sword in one hand but his shield missing from the other. He narrowed his eyes as he realized he was dealing with a rogue.

Not a second was wasted, immediately after he'd released the rogue the other man made his flight into an easy handspring backwards and landed to crouch on the floor like a feline. He lunged forward at Arcelare, his gleaming dual blades glossed with poison, and slashed for his throat. Arcelare brought up his weapon to parry the rogue's attacks, and kicked him away. But, true to his athletics, the rogue brought up his leg and blocked Arcelare's kick with his own. Then the other man retreated away soundlessly.

Now it was Arcelare's turn, he basically leapt forward, and swung his blade for the rogue's leading leg which was quickly removed from the sword's swing. The rogue swung his body to meet one of his daggers to Arcelare's face while the other dagger swung with his body to try again, much like Arcelare's whirl wind technique. He intercepted the first dagger with the hilt of his sword and met the other with open air as he ducked.

The smaller man was forced backwards by the force of the block, and stood, panting slightly. It didn't take Arcelare more than a moment to recognize the rogue as another Sin'dorei, judging him by the fiery hair he knew to belong to their race, and the raging fel-green eyes. He would have smirked if he wasn't preoccupied by parrying and blocking a flurry of attacks, and only reacted with his own blur of whizzing blade attacks. The Sin'dorei was excellent at dodging and even more formidable with his combat techniques. But Arcelare was also good at dodging and parrying, though not as quick and efficient as the rogue with a weapon.

It might have been ten seconds that'd gone by since Arcelare dragged the other man into the room, then the door burst open and the two combatants froze briefly to regard who it was. Of course, it was the Draenei paladin, huge mace in hand and glaring at everyone in the room.

* * *

Artris took the Kal'dorei's stunned look as an opportunity. While the warrior was looking at the paladin, he leapt forward and had a perfect shot at the man's naked stomach. Baring his daggers like fangs he swept his arm and aimed his sickle blade. He was quickly disrupted with a flash of light from the corner of his eye, the light felt like a kick as it hit him in the side. He screeched on the wood floor before he recovered in a blink, he rolled to his feet, but was dazed slightly giving the consequence that he couldn't move very far before he felt a slash come across his defending forearm. It would have probably sheered his damn wrist off if he wasn't wearing his leather gloves. Still, the attack sent him another few feet backwards.

He recalculated his odds, and switched targets. The paladin was more dangerous than this warrior. He grunted with the quick movements on his injured arm, and reached into one of his pouches, and flung his arm in front of him, releasing the irritating powder into the air in front of the Kal'dorei. The warrior was hit in the face with the powder, and blinded, scratching and rubbing at his eyes with fractious growls.

Artris ducked through the warrior's legs and skidded to jump at the paladin, like a viper. The paladin had his mace up and ready. Artris moved and aimed his daggers to the weak points of the paladin's plate armor, under his arms, his neck, his knees, and between his belt and his chest guard at his abdomen. He ducked under the first initial attack and quickly swung his daggers upwards to catch the Draenei under one of his arms. It didn't bleed though, he wore a chain mail vest to cover it, but Artris guessed it still had the effectiveness of being hit hard with a cudgel. Then he started his art. With precise aiming of a combat specialist he took his dagger hard across the Draenei's protected hamstring, and took his combination rally to cut and dart at the paladin's mail, exposing most of his body beneath, dipped behind him and garrotted him in the back. All within seconds.

Artris backed away behind the paladin, but amazingly, an arc of Light appeared out of seemingly nowhere, and thrashed at him. The solid-like Light attack hit him like a brick wall in the chest and sent him backwards to smack against the closed door, knocking the wind out of his lungs. He saw the huge mace descend on him suddenly, and brought his arms up defensively, keeping his daggers in an X across both his wrists, for surely he couldn't stop the mace with his bare hands. The impact of the paladin's weapon on his daggers was like a metal mallet on toothpicks. A horrible vibration went down his body, rattling his bones, and smashing his daggers out of his grasp. He swore to himself and saw the Draenei lift his mace for another hit, and took his chance to strike out his leg. His kick caught the paladin in the stomach, hard, interrupting his attack.

The rogue rolled away to safety and swept his foot out swiftly to knock the paladin off his feet. Personally, he was surprised he wasn't dead yet, really. He could tell immediately when he was grabbed by the hair and flung inside that the warrior had the upper hand on his experience level. And the paladin too. If he made it out of this he'd buy so much flowers and gift for his trainer for teaching him how to dodge and parry, she wouldn't have any place to put them all. Dumb luck was on his side today.

Or was it? Something stomped behind Artris as he crouched after kicking the Draenei's hooves out beneath him, and that something was deathly close. He barely had a chance to turn around before he saw a huge metal wall coming at his face. It knocked him clear across the room. He skidded and rolled until his back slapped against the other wall. He coughed, and blood drooled down nose and lacerated temple. Out of breath, and dazed from the impact, he could barely hear someone coming at him until he felt an uncomfortable pushing coming from his shoulder and go through it. At first, through his haze, it was warm then icy and then painful. It took a moment for his eyes to focus, but he saw the Night Elf standing over him with a bloody sword and shield. So he'd gotten to his shield, huh? The look of disgust and irritation on the elf's face made Artris want to chuckle.

The Kal'dorei raised his sword hand once more, and plunged it into Artris' abdomen, making the rogue gag when he twisted it in his kidney.

"Wait!! Stop!"

Artris heard that voice through the annoying buzzing in his ears, and looked to where it had come from. Forgotten in the frenzy of battle, the priest was holding a blanket over his nakedness, a worried and horrified look on his gentle face. Artris' eyes looked to the bloodstained shackles on the priest's wrists and scowled.

Then his blurred gaze fell on the man who'd beaten him, the warrior. The Night Elf was also gazing at the priest, but his look was unpleasant. To his side he saw the priest shrink away from the unpleasant gaze. It made Artris furious to see him do that.

The rogue turned his enraged glare to look up at the Kal'dorei. He lurched as the long sword was ripped from his body, but made no sound.

* * *

Arcelare took back his sword, and backed away from the injured rogue, glaring angrily down at the bleeding Sin'dorei. What kind of idiot storms into a room that wasn't cased, has a lethal Alliance in it and an unknown amount of people guarding? The rogue was an amateur and he'd beaten both him and Kasteus at the same time, or so. Arcelare had been blinded by that cheap trick for a few seconds, so that didn't count.

He turned his attention to the priest on the bed. The exhausted looking man climbed off the bed with the sheets covering his body. He must have unwrapped the shackles from the post, thought Arcelare. He approached cautiously, and put his hands on Arcelare's arm, that damn cute pleading look in the elf's eye asked him not to do anything. But he slapped the Sin'dorei's hands off of him and pointed his sword down at the rogue's throat.

"Should we kill 'em?" he asked Kasteus without taking his eye off the wheezing rogue.

"It doesn't matter to me. But think of it, vhat if you do kill him and throw his corpse out the vindow? Von't a guard find it? Vhat if a guard finds the corpse of a pursuer?" replied the Draenei, who had picked himself up off the ground. "And say if you didn't kill him?"

Arcelare's mind scrambled to think of all the different possibilities. And a lot there were. He looked over his shoulder at the paladin, "Um, another seller?" he grinned.

The paladin only shook his head at the response, done with arguing with Arcelare. "Maybe this rogue vill be a plaything for the priest, for now. I don't care for him though. But look deep into dose teary, round eyes and tell the priest no."

And Arcelare did, and was trapped in the priest's pleading eyes that made him look like a child. He frowned, and looked down at the rogue with only sale prices dashing though his eyes. "Whatever. But I swear," he pointed his sword at the rogue in threat, "if you dare touch a single hair on my priest, or one of us. I'll end you."

He looked at the rogue's covered face and saw only hate, furious agonizing hate. Arcelare knew this one couldn't be trusted. He'd have to be broken, soon. For now, he'd keep them all in this room until something was done with the rogue.

Kasteus stood on the other side of the room, and picked up the two daggers that were dropped and held them like they were disgusting. "And these toys?"

"Throw 'em out."

Kasteus put them in his bag, having different plans for such valuable daggers made out of such valuable material.

Arcelare reached down and grabbed the rogue by his injured wrist and hauled him up, the other making no such sound, and shoved him at the priest. His silvery gaze held the priest's, and he said in the most threatening voice he could muster, "Don't you dare heal him, either."

* * *

"Why are you here?" Donelzane's voice trembled, with excitement and fear. He was glad someone knew where he was now, but he feared for their life now that his captors had him also.

"I came to save you, of course. You ARE the abducted person from Tarren Mills, right?" replied Artris in a hushed voice. The priest nodded and had come towards him and knelt to his side. The rogue was seated painfully against the wall, struggling for breath as his insides bled from the warrior's intense stabbing.

Artris looked at the priest and was shocked to see his shoulders shudder, and he dropped his head. "Hey, wait now! You can't cry," he scorned him. "Not in front of these monsters. Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?" he asked in true concern. He looked to see the Draenei and the Kal'dorei retreat to the other side of the room where there was a table. But that table was right by the window, and the door was blocked by the Draenei. There was no easy escape for Artris.

"No, I-I'm fine…," muttered the priest. But he didn't look fine. He was covered in bruises, he still wore those filthy shackles, and he had dark bags under his eyes. He's been through a lot… "But. You aren't fine," continued the priest in a firm tone.

"Heh, I'll live," replied the rogue. "In fact, I didn't expect to make it inside for more than five seconds. And here I am, sitting all bashed up and shit, while those idiots sit there and make sure of what? That I don't escape? Do you know why I ain't dead?"

"No… But, I might have a guess… It--It isn't pleasant," said Donelzane, putting his palms over the gashes and stabs on the rogue's exposed skin. When he looked at the injuries that his wannabe rescuer had, he couldn't help think that he'd gotten off easy. He'd seen the carnage an Alliance master could do, and this was nothing…

Donelzane let his hands start glowing, his fingertips started to warm up and soon his wrists felt warm then up to his arms. He didn't have any healing spells that would help the rogue in the least, but he could at least stop the bleeding inside him… His wrist was quickly snatched and his healing spell was interrupted, Donelzane looked up at the rogue in surprise.

"Didn't you hear him? He said no healing me," hissed Artris. He let the priest's wrist go, and put his own hand over his wound on his abdomen. Putting pressure on it so he didn't bleed to death on the outside, he'd try to help himself so he didn't bleed on the inside. He whispered curses as he sat up in pain, blood gushing from between his fingers. But he quickly activated his herbalist talent, and he felt his wounds being sewed together, and after a few seconds he wasn't bleeding internally anymore. But he sure as hell wasn't 100%.

"I can't understand Common," admitted the priest, a hint of shame in his voice. But Artris patted him gently. It was understandable. By the look of his face, he didn't think the priest was old enough to have been involved in the enslavement of the Sin'dorei. Artris knew Common because he use to be in the front lines with the Alliance, fighting Horde.

"Where are they taking you?" Artris whispered. All he got was a shrug. So, the priest didn't know. "Why did they take you?" Another shrug. "You're naked… Did they…?" A pause, and a slow nod.

Artris bit back his swearing. He looked at the Night Elf who looked overall self-satisfied, looking at Artris with that infuriating Kal'dorei smirk of his. He glared in return, and looked away, back to the priest.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Donelzane Seredian," replied the priest with that little quiver that seemed to be apart of his voice now.

"My name's Artris Blint. I expect the cavalry to be here by tomorrow."

"W-What? The-- you mean, people are coming? Why?"

"For you, duh. And, I guess me now," Artris chuckled. "Dumb thing to do, huh? I heard you screaming for the past few minutes and began to worry, so I came in recklessly." Artris grinned a grin of a cat.

Donelzane blushed hard as Artris explained himself, "I… I, uh, I wasn't being… tortured… if that's what you were thinking." His blush turned more red at admitting to it. Artris was outside all along?! He'd heard him…? How embarrassing. He instinctively pulled the sheets around him closer, hiding his dirty skin from Artris.

"Yeah. I guessed that when I looked inside."

"You looked inside?!" exclaimed Donelzane, his face on fire as he shouted at Artris. In the corner, the two Alliance shifted in their seats, and Artris saw the Kal'dorei had his hand on his weapon, ready to strike.

"I didn't see anything!" he said in a hush. "Relax, man. It's okay, I know a lot of guys who hoe the other row. Me, personally? Nah, y'see I have this thing for my trainer, she's real hot I think you'd like--"

"No, no! Stop!" argued Donelzane, his face still blushing the color of Artris' hair. "And I don't… uh, hoe the other row… Whatever that is… But, either way! You have to leave! You should run!" whispered Donelzane frantically. "You don't know what they do here! I don't think anyone can save me in time either… Earlier we were in a rush to get here. I think we're leaving in the morning."

"We, you say? Hell no, if I escape you're coming with me," bickered Artris with Donelzane quietly, grabbing his shoulder, despite the pain Artris felt in his own. "I came in here to save you. And now that I'm inside with you, I could do it. I'm a rogue."

Donelzane wanted to weep at those words. Artris, who he didn't even know was willing to --has already-- risk his life just to save him? He's never been this honoured before in his life, except when he was accepted into the tutelage of priesthood. But when he looked at the horrible state the rogue was in, he'd never forgive himself if Artris ended up like the Undead rogue back at Tarren Mills… "No, Artris, I can't go with you. I'd never escape this place, I'm not strong enough… Not strong enough to even defend myself from that Night Elf. Please, I know you're a rogue. I know what you can do. And you can escape from here, without me."

Artris narrowed his eyes at the bold words just spoken to him. "Donny… Listen to me," he pulled down his mask ,"One day, you'll be stronger than me. I hope so. If I make it out of here alive I'll find you on that day. And we'll march up to the King of Stormwind and spit on his boots. These two here? They're nothing!"

Donelzane's heart was frantic to make Artris be quiet, to stop talking nonsense. His trainer had talked to him about the same things, rarely though. All his friends talked about it also. But not him, not yet. "Artris, please be quiet. That's too dangerous to talk about here…"

Artris put his hand on Donelzane's shoulder and patted his head like he were a child. "That's fine, Donny. But you mark my words, eh? Say if I don't make it out alive, okay? You'll go to the King by yourself and show him how we Horde do it old school."

Donelzane shook his head at Artris' words, denying it. "If you're going to leave now. Do it. But I'm not going with you." He paused to look down at his hands. "Yet."

Artris grinned at the remark. He had wrapped a few hack-meat bandages around his wounds, and they've nearly closed, though the cleave going diagonally from his right shoulder to his neck was still throbbing, that's where the Kal'dorei had hit him when he was sneaking outside the window. He didn't even know he had been hit there until he felt blood oozing down the front of his tabard. "Okay, kid. Don't worry."

Artris struggled to his feet, holding his stomach in one hand as he used the wall to pull himself up. He delicately put the black mask over his mouth and nose, leaving his scorching fel-eyes glaring. "Warrior," he asked in Common.

The Night Elf had already drawn his weapon, but didn't rise from his seat just yet. The warrior was fully clothed in his armor, Artris saw. Under the warrior's helmet visor you couldn't see his eyes or half his face, but there was enough delight in his voice as he replied, "Yeah?"

"Tell me, what's your name?" Artris continued, standing nonchalantly with his hip to one side and his hands in his pockets. A quick gust of cool wind came through the window behind the Night Elf, and he saw in the dim-lit room that the Kal'dorei was smiling like a madman, obviously amused. "Arcelare."

Artris tested it on his tongue, "Arcelare?" His Thalassian accent made it sound different than how the warrior had pronounced it, but that didn't matter much. He made eye contact once more with 'Arcelare', and eyed the Draenei with precaution, knowing full well the beating the paladin could give. "Name's Artris. It was nice meeting you two, and thanks for being the fool and not killing me." He winked at Arcelare--

--and vanished.

* * *

"Relax, dere's only two exits out of dis room," said Kasteus as the rogue fell into the shadows of the room, completely invisible. Arcelare had pounced to his feet the second it happened, and made sure no one got past his guard on the window. Kasteus was by the door. And the priest on the ground looked just as confused at the sudden disappearance.

A loud noise shattered the oil-lamp on the table by the window and Arcelare spun his head to see the glass was shattered and oily liquid spilt everywhere. Then he cursed himself, and turned around sharply to regard the window. A piece of the broken window shutter creaked silently back and forth as if disturbed.

He'd escaped…?

Everyone in the room stood frozen, no one dared breath, listening. Listening for the barest footstep. And they heard it. It was a frantic footstep, right between Kasteus and Arcelare, so the Kal'dorei swung his sword out in an sweep, the black sword gleaming through the air, but hit nothing. The elf who called himself 'Artris' had broken his stealth technique and came up below Arcelare and struck his daggers upwards to cut into the Night Elf's wrist guards, the force dislodging his weapon. So he used the lamp distraction to sneak his hands into Kasteus' bags for his nearly-broken daggers... Arcelare made a kick in front of him, and just barely missed the Sin'dorei.

Half a second after he'd counterattacked, he felt an unfamiliar sting in his back. Then another one. And another. And another for the finishing touch. It was all a blur really, all Arcelare saw was a black blur whizzing around him as the rogue went on his little killing spree. Next he knew he was bleeding from his back, his stomach, his legs and elbow joints. Clever rogue has damn well incapacitated him…

Arcelare nearly lost his balance with the muscles behind his legs lacerated, but he kicked his sword into his hand and made a huge swing behind him and caught nothing but air. All he saw was the Sin'dorei back-flip before he disappeared out the window.

How infuriating.

Arcelare didn't even have time to offset his attacks. His sword fell from his fingers since his tendons couldn't hold it very well, and he slipped to his knees, fully beat. He breathed once, twice. He snapped his head up and nearly shouted, "Well! Thanks for helping me, Kasteus."

The Draenei looked momentarily stunned. "Dat elf is like lightening." Then Kasteus soon realized that Arcelare was on his knees and bleeding all over the place. He scowled at the mess, but decided to help the wild Kal'dorei anyways.

* * *

Donelzane slouched back against the wall when he saw Artris run away. He was so glad the rogue made it out alive while also showing… 'Arcelare' he called the Kal'dorei? Showing that warrior some hurt. It made Donelzane excited to know his captors weren't invincible. But, he was also terribly sad. He was alone again. He took a moment to think about all that had happened in the last five minutes, and clenched his hands tight against his sides. He would make it out of here alive. Maybe Artris would come get him. He'd have a bunch of people with him, he said.

He didn't watch the big Draenei pick up his defeated friend, nor did he listen to the cursing or bickering, he didn't even smell the blood in the room anymore. His eyes were transfixed on the bloodstain Artris had left behind. It was fairly large, actually. Smeared and dripping down the wall to another smear on the floor, the crimson following the grain of the wooden floor to make it look like it had been drawn there with a paintbrush.

His fingertips gently smeared the blood some more, and then he wiped the red off his fingers on the wood. He hoped Artris would survive, because there's a big puddle where he'd once sat. Abruptly, his hair was grabbed and he was hauled up. He cried in pain and shock, his ironed hands grabbed at the offending arm. And then someone slapped him with the back of their hand. Whoever it was who had their fingers in his hair let it go, and Donelzane was struck to the ground from the blow.

The elf tried to pull the blankets over him, to protect him from the sudden fury of someone that he could only guess to be the warrior. But the cotton sheet was ripped from his fingers and flung away, leaving him to try and cover his dignity with his arms and legs. Even that was denied to him when his hands were pulled up by the chain and his shins kicked from beneath him, leaving him to kneel with his arms held straight over his head.

He sobbed, refusing to open his eyes for fear of weeping. He refused to look into the furious eyes of the warrior. He refused to show the Kal'dorei his fear. After what Artris' influence had on him, he'd try to remain a rock until help came… He was indeed a lowly coward…

Angry words in Common were spoken to him harshly, but he didn't reply with any sound. The Night Elf paused, as if waiting for a response. When none came he repeated in a louder voice. Still no response. Another strike across Donelzane's face, blood dripped from furrows the warrior's metal gauntlet made in his cheek. Still he didn't say anything, though sorrow was tightening his throat once more.

Moments later he heard the jingling of buckles and only knew what was coming. He tried not opening his eyes to see it, or he might start to snivel again. It wasn't a few seconds later did something hot and fleshy push against his lips. The Kal'dorei spoke in a low warning tone, ushering the priest forward by the fingers tangled in his blonde hair. But Donelzane wouldn't. So the warrior forced his dick into his small mouth.

Donelzane chocked on it at first, remembering the Draenei forcing himself inside his mouth also, he could only be so fortunate and thankful that the Night Elf wasn't as… big as the Draenei. It was still awful. So horrible. The same bitter taste, the way the foreskin wrinkled on his teeth, and how his tongue felt like it was shoved back and forth with each painful thrust. Salt seemed to seep into his mouth as it continued, and it started feeling slimy. The fingers on his scalp itching and scratching until Donelzane expected to have no skin on his head after. The chains of his restraints pulled even harder, and he couldn't help but whimper.

Thrusting in was painful, pulling out was sickening. The Night Elf did this over and over for minutes and minutes. All the while Donelzane couldn't help but agree to it all, he was forced to. He was choking on the girth in his mouth so much he thought he might suffocate.

Then a precise drive through his lips put the entirety of the Night Elf's length down his throat, and he strangled with the immensity of it. He yelped slightly at the painful stretching in the back of his mouth, and looked up at the Kal'dorei. His gaze was met with uncaring, but livid, silvery eyes that shone such distrust and abhorrence it made Donelzane shut his eyes tight and hold back whatever was making his eyes hot.

Then it seemed like forever. Maybe an eternity later a quick throbbing tug snapped his head back and he shrieked at the pain beating on his skull. In the far, far distance he heard a melodic sigh as something hot and sticky and slimy exploded from his hairline down to his neck, he nearly got sick when it shot into his mouth. The hand in his hair suddenly disappeared, and his chain was released, so he fell. His side smacked into the cool floor and his head felt like it might have burst on the impact. But, unfortunately, it didn't.

Despite his better efforts Donelzane began to shiver, silent tears trickled down his sullied cheeks onto his hands. And slowly as he began to realize just how shameful he felt, that being forced like that could damn well break a person's spirit. And deep within he felt himself cracking and splintering, on the brink of shattering.

He didn't even feel the continuous hitting he felt tingle his side and middle. He couldn't hear the shouting voices from a far. He couldn't even notice that he was all alone again. So he curled up and shuddered at the filth on his body.

* * *

Arcelare was pried away from the whinging elf by his arms. He was completely lost in his rage, kicking and stomping on the tiny man until Kasteus pulled him away. He shouted and booted at the Draenei, even though he remotely felt pain sting at his injuries. He yelled absurdities and insults down at the stoic Blood Elf, blaming him for his wounds.

His wrath was quickly interrupted with a devastating uppercut to his solar plexus, once, twice. The air was forced out of his lungs and he stumbled in the Draenei's grasp. "Stop it!" he heard shouted in his face. Then it was like being hit with a sledgehammer, a fist meeting his jaw. Arcelare was pushed back by the hit, barely having time to think, before he crashed through the door and into the hallway of the Inn. His back met the wall and he slumped forward, nearly getting the paladin's infamous one-hit KO.

But before he could revive himself and go at it again, he felt his long hair being towed and he had no choice but to go with it. Arcelare clawed at the metallic hand holding his precious hair hostage, but it was like trying to dislodge a vice. They didn't go very far, maybe a few doors down, and Arcelare was flung inside. He nearly tripped on the rug in the room and almost fell on the table. But he caught his balance and whizzed his head around to regard the Draenei, "Why did you do that?!"

"Vhat? Save de elf or hit you in dat pretty face?"

"… Both!!"

"Because it pains me to see my prize get his face turned to mush and his body all cut up. Sorry for being a sympathizer," shrugged Kasteus. The Draenei approached Arcelare, with no movement for hostility anymore, and grabbed his glove. "Now. If you aren't going to do it yourself, you're going to bleed to death."

Arcelare looked from his bloodied body to Kasteus' hand. "Go ahead."

Kasteus' hand lit up with the holy Light in an instant, and his hand warmed. Immediately Arcelare felt soothed with the healing spell, it's magic wandering over his whole body towards his gashes that were exposed from the rogue's constant bashing. The warrior sighed and leaned back on the wall he'd found, and relaxed into the trance of his Draenei's enchantments.

* * *

It smelt like hot leather and spiced parchment in the whole building. They'd been here for hours, both the Ambassador and the tiny mage. They sat like condemned criminals or something, sitting on winged-back chairs in front of Thrall's mighty throne. The only light came from the torches lined all along the wall, there was only one wall since the room was circular. Guards, and guards and guards. Everywhere. They were in every room of every part of this 'castle'. But this regal stronghold wasn't just filled with armor and swords. Advisors, courtier, servants, and of course guardians, were everywhere. The tacticians were hovering over maps and paper reports doing whatever they were hired for. Courtiers were browsing the monopoly that made up the government of the building.

But all Thrall's attention was focused on the two who demanded his consideration.

"You're saying, Ambassador, that… you want me to coagulate a force into Alliance territory because you and this elf say you saw a kidnapping?" asked Thrall in a slow droll, his voice sounded amused at the complete audacity. He sat with his arms crossed and his legs stretched out. Although he did wear a serious face, as if regarding the question.

"Yes, sir," replied Teratore as if the question didn't sound outrageous at all.

"Your Highness ," interrupted the mage, addressing himself as Neph Jadwin, "I know it sounds outlandish to ask this of you, but I beg you to see mercy. Answer this with justice and retribution!" Neph gripped his white staff painfully in his hand, his robes flailing as he motioned his hands in desperation. "Please, allow me to take a few warriors and--"

"Enough! Master Jadwin, you've spoken enough. But if you would sit down and take into account the consequences of your accusations. You will risk the lives of seasoned warriors for one simple Blood Elf? I don't know about you but there isn't any principle in trying to be a hero and rescue this elf while he's in Alliance territory. There's a truce between the Alliance and Horde, if you are so willing to march into their soil with nothing but a sword you condemn the death of innocents and yourself."

Neph wanted to interpose in Thrall's speech, he wanted to say how badly the Alliance have held this 'truce'. He wanted to point out how the Horde haven't done any better. If anything the two factions poked and probed each other ever since the rise of the new Lich King, Arthas. But he wisely held his tongue. He only bent his head to look at the ground and take a step back. "Forgive my rudeness."

Teratore looked up the flights of stairs to glance at Warchief Thrall, "Sir, with all respect, I don't think the Alliance raiders took consideration this armistice while assaulting Tarren Mills. Although I don't aim to change your mind, I'll say I came hoping for retribution."

Thrall looked to turn sour, but didn't reply, only sat there. "You're dismissed now, I have more important things to do."

As the stubborn Neph and calm Teratore turned to leave.

Once the two had retreated from the huge mansion, Neph turned to Teratore with a frown, "You aren't going to believe that guy are you? You're going to come with me, right?"

Teratore didn't look down at Neph as the elf spoke to him, only continued walking. "I have no ambitions to attempt to rescue a stranger I don't even know. I can't remember the last time I saved someone I've never seen before."

Neph's hopeful eyes turned cheerless as he redirected his gaze to his staff at his side. "I should have known you'd say that--"

"But if it means that much to rescue one of your clansmen I wouldn't be more privileged."

Neph nearly tripped on his enchanted staff at the turn of circumstances. "What? You mean… You mean you're coming with me?"

"I have a few friends also."

Neph made that elfish grin, "Hmph. I wonder how our dear Artris Blint is. I bet that bugger got himself killed already, don't you think? He always was so reckless…" But Neph's voice didn't hold mirth, he sounded concerned if anything. After all, the only thing Neph considered that was common between his two friends was that Teratore, Artris and himself were in the same guild. Neph was a nervous wreck in frenzied battle, Artris was a hot-headed blur of death, and Teratore was simply a quickly aimed shot to a foe's heart, the hunter barely had to use his pet if only for a distraction, such is the way of a master marksman. He'd spoken with his comrades frequently at each weekly guild meeting. And soon they had made friends and went out regularly.

"If anyone knows that quick-witted elf, they'll know he cheated himself out of danger yet again," replied Teratore.

Neph merely chuckled.

* * *

And of course, Artris wasn't at all dead. He might as well be half dead though. He'd already made it to safety to no one's knowledge. After his hasty attack on that arrogant Kal'dorei, he'd bounced out of the same window he'd literally broken into, and was out of earshot in a second. He got a fair distance between himself and the hollow little Alliance town, and had sat nervously against a hidden tree, paranoid that someone was following him. It was impossible though, those two clumsy, brutish, hulky sword-bearers couldn't climb a tree if their damn life depended on it. He'd only known the agility and swiftness of a rogue or a druid to be able to swing and leap through thickets fast enough. Often times he would see a frenzied hunter be able to do it.

He winced as he put his back to the tree trunk and knelt down to regard his injuries. His bandaging had done a good job on the open wounds, but they were still open, and on fire. He slowly wound a better made bandage made of runecloth around his injured arm, thinking about Donelzane. He had no doubt that after he'd escaped nothing good would befall the timid priest. And the blame was to Artris, as usual.

He clipped the bandage in place with a metal pin and inspected his daggers. They were simply grotesque. One finely crafted blade was shattered, half the dagger was left back at the Inn leaving the dagger looking like… well it just made Artris sick. His other dagger was in slightly better condition though. It wore a long crack from the tip that shattered diagonally across the metal to the hilt, but still in one piece. That Draenei sure has a wicked swing. Imagine if that was his head!

He stuck his broken daggers in his pouch and would refer them to a repairman later. For now, he would continue his plotting… He had to reach someone, tell them where the two Alliance were going, and possibly rally with whatever manpower his favourite mage had gathered. He'd wait until dawn for them. It shouldn't take too long if they flew from the Undercity…

* * *

He'd lain on the cool wooden floor for… it seemed like hours. Maybe he did lay there for hours. Maybe he'd fallen asleep even, if he was fortunate enough. Or if he was real lucky maybe he was dead. But he couldn't be dead, because he felt pain all over his body. It throbbed at his arms and legs and his head, aching and pinching his flesh.

He flickered his eyes open and saw nothing immediately, but his eyes slowly focused and he realized he was staring at the wooden grains of the floor he was laying on. He shivered and pulled closer to himself, and sat up. He was felt instant panic swell up as he realized he didn't recognize the room he was in-- Then he remembered. It came back painfully. He didn't care to try remembering the details because he knew he's get sick if he did. He found himself in the same room where… well, it all happened. It looked like a warmer, friendlier version of the Tarren Mills Inn room he was staying at. But it was indeed the Alliance Inn. He looked around and saw the sheet he'd worn was tossed on the floor by the bed, the window above the table cracked and barricaded, and then he saw the door was splintered. And then his eyes roamed beside him at a great black puddle. It was dried blood.

His eyes turned sullen at the black smudge. Then he realized he was sitting in his own little puddle, this one not as smeared as the one Artris left. He touched his face and realized that he had bled from his nose and lip, crusted blood fell off his cheek and he hissed at the wound there. His shoulder ached and his arm felt like it were crushed. The pain went down the side of his body all the way to his shins. But most awkward of all his tonsils hurt and stung, stretched too far by the Night Elf. That's right, he'd been beaten by the warrior. He had lacerations and cuts along his body where the warrior's boot met his frail skin.

What a beating that had been. Or so he would have thought, he didn't remember any of it. He felt his arms shudder and his shoulders flinch, his eyes became hot and he felt a lump in his throat. He wobbled to his feet and limped to the bed. He leaned down with a pained grimace and took the dirty sheet in his hand and slowly wrapped it around his body. Then he sat down patiently on the bed and wept silently.

-0-0-0-

That is the debut of Chapter 3, ladies and gents. Excited?

Not my most revered chapter. I'm still not very frank with storytelling .o;; Sry, working on it lol Ty for making it to the end!

This will conclude the exciting action part of 'Tarren Mills is Under Attack!' Ty ty *bows* Sit tight and wait for Ch 4 where I hope something interesting happens.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Sorry, sorry. It's been a long time since my last update. Hopefully I can keep this story interesting for me to keep updating.

A gentle touch across his palm woke him immediately, opening his eyes slowly, recognizing the fingertip contact as Kasteus'. Making a small discomforted noise as he rolled off his side onto his back to look up at the Draenei more clearly, the other man stilled him from moving around. "You're still hurt. Stop moving," he said sternly.

Arcelare narrowed his eyes, putting a hand over the tender flesh of his nearly-healed wounds from last night's incident. Sighing tiredly, he closed his eyes and took the moment to relax, thinking about nothing other than his time with his friend and lover. "I'm fine… Believe it or not, I've taken far worse damage and got up a second later."

Kasteus glared a little, increasing his grip on Arcelare slightly, "That's because you always had a professional healer. I, for one, am not a professional healer… So stay still, I'm nearly done." With that said, Kasteus flicked his eyes from Arcelare's face to his naked torso where there were still red blemishes from the dagger cuts. He touched the Night Elf's hot skin with his fingertips, the purposefully feather-light touch making the warrior shiver. His hand glows slightly as his healing spell weaved across Arcelare's skin, mending the bruises and cuts on his chest. The light spread to Arcelare's arms and down his legs, Kasteus' hand lovingly caressing Arcelare's body as he does this. "Feel better?"

Arcelare had closed his eyes in relaxation when the warmth of the holy light knitted across his body, further diminishing his wounds. He opened his eyes a crack to look up at Kasteus once more, a sly grin stretching across his face as he wraps his fingers behind Kasteus' neck to pull him down closer, "Maybe I should thank you properly," he says against the Draenei's lips, flicking his tongue out slightly to lick Kasteus' chin. Kasteus chuckled lightly, rubbing his forehead on Arcelare's cheek lovingly, leaning over the smaller man to hold him. "I would absolutely love to do that. But we have other issues at hand," he whispered calmly.

Arcelare sighed slightly in frustration, but being held so closely by Kasteus dulled his anger. He wrapped both his arms around Kasteus and the other relaxed even more on top of him. The Night Elf played with the paladin's soft hair pulled up in a ponytail, "I guess you're right," he said against warm skin. He laughed, "As usual."

Kasteus petted Arcelare's hair like one would a dog, and he sat up, smiling down at the elf. "Flattery will get you nowhere. Today, at least," he said playfully, rubbing his hand over Arcelare's body from his taunt chest muscles down to his stiff abs. "Unless you behave with the Blood Elf, I might give you another chance tonight."

Arcelare made a short 'pfff' and smiled teasingly up at the Draenei, propping himself up on his elbows, "What makes you think I won't just take my chance right now?"

This time Kasteus snickered, "Rape me? I'd like to see you try, I'm nearly double your size, cup cake, I have very high doubts that you could-"

Arcelare leaped at the Draenei. Kasteus was taken quite off-guard and fell with the momentum of the heavy Night Elf. They bounced once on the bed, but fell off the mattress to the floor, the paladin uttering an uncomfortable huff on impact with the hardwood floor. Arcelare gripped his hair with one hand and tenderly cupped his face with the other, straddling Kasteus with naked legs. He quickly leaned down before the Draenei had the chance to slap him away. The warrior kissed the other man furiously, making a small noise in delight at the warm lips. He pushed down with an arm on Kasteus when the bigger male started to struggle to get his arms up and strangle Arcelare.

"Mmf-Archhelar…!" snarled Kasteus in the kiss and grabbed the warrior by his shoulders and with great strain unclamped the Night Elf from his chest. "What the HELL are you doing?" he growled at Arcelare.

"I love you, you know," Arcelare raised an eyebrow, stopping his struggling in Kasteus' tight hold. "I'm just tryin' to make it up to you and sorry if I'm not into that romantic shit," his stare turned into a slight glare.

"You don't need to be romantic with me," sighed Kasteus and loosened his bone-crunching fists on Arcelare's arms. "We're busy, remember? I don't know how you can operate like you do while on a job."

"Because I don't let my 'jobs' get in the way of my life?" the other retorted with a small shrug.

Kasteus only sighed again and shook his head, gently taking Arcelare with him as he sat up. He pushed Arcelare back onto the bed in a seated position and stood up tall, looking down at the curious Kal'dorei. "I… only want to see you happy. I love you too," he glowered at the phrase, not use to saying it or use to acknowledging that he had feelings for his friend. "And I'm sorry," he added. After all, Arcelare and a multitude of other males wasn't that in touch with his feelings as Kasteus was, so the only way he knew how to say thank you was with a kiss and a fuck. Maybe he could try and teach Arcelare how to say thank you properly. Not that having the Kal'dorei all over him was a bad thing, though.

"Whatever. I guess you're right," replied the warrior with a tiny smile.

"Tonight," Kasteus said with an equally tiny nod and a finger brush up Arcelare's jaw playfully.

Arcelare grinned mischievously and gently took the big blue hand and licked the tip of a finger.

* * *

Donelzane was laying awake silently, curled up in the warm blankets made of what felt like wool and fleece, either way they were a simple comfort to his distress. He closed his eyes and sighed, but then winced in pain as his bruised ribs moved with his breath. He put a small hand on his side and gently lulled the pain away with a healing spell. This time he sighed in slight reassurance as the sharp pains started to leave his body.

"Aye, ye lil' elf, 'ere ya go, lad," said a husky woman's voice. He recognized it as the kind dwarf woman who worked as a maid for the inn, earlier she brought him a drink and a piece of leftover bread. And she had also brought with her the thick blanket he was currently hiding under. And this time, she brought with her a set of clothes.

He sat up stiffly and groaned a little as his rigid muscles pulled in his effort. But he offered a warm smile at the grinning woman who stood no taller than three feet tall with frizzy braided red hair. Donelzane held the blankets around his still naked body tightly as he reached out for the grey clothes. The dwarf woman snickered at his shyness and patted his knee under the blankets in comfort before she turned around and left, locking the door behind her as usual.

She was the one who had moved him into this new room last night. The one where everything happened with Artris was all bloodied and broken, so he was moved into a free room. He hadn't seen either of his captors since they left together. He was hoping they had just left, he didn't want to go with them…wherever they were headed. But he was still held incarcerated.

The priest looked down at the clothes she had brought him and saw that it was a simple set of grey woollen clothes that looked like they would be a snug fit, even for his slim form. They were probably sown for a female. It made him flush a little that he would wear a girl's clothes, but after that he didn't feel any shame since they were much, much better than his previously ripped, bloody, and soiled robes.

He missed his home in Silvermoon. He missed his friends from the Academy. He missed his People, and his family, and the forest and everything he loved! Why did he go to Hillsbrad? Why did he leave Quel'thalas? Why was this happening to him? Why couldn't someone else have been taken?

He stood up and let the beige blankets fall back onto the bed off his naked body. He lifted up the pants and guessed, female or not, they would be long on his short legs. But the soft warmth on his fingers once again made him glad that he had new clothes.

Donelzane slipped into the wool shirt and pants, and after taking a few minutes to slowly pick at his hair until some of the grime was out of it, his fingers brushed the blonde tresses for a few more minutes, all the while trying not to concentrate on where he was and who he was being escorted by.

A long sigh escaped his lips as he slouched after he was done with his hair, and flopped sideways to lay on the bed. He closed his eyes and almost immediately started getting tired again, even though the sun was up and shining golden into his bedroom. He turned away from the window and curled up, wrapping the blankets around him once more. He growled in frustration at the thought that he would have to wait for someone to get him. He had neither the grace or stealth of a rogue to escape without notice, and even if he could escape, there was bound to be people to follow him on horses.

But Artris said he would come back. With people. Donelzane took one glance towards the window and saw it wasn't very far into the day, the sun had come up not too long ago. But, they were already here longer than he first thought. Maybe the two Alliance really had left him. Surely it wouldn't take an army to get to him in this small town… He closed his eyes and hoped against hope he'd be rescued within a few hours if not less.

He had to trust Artris. "He seemed reliable. F-For a rogue," he mumbled to himself, and made a small chuckle. "He'll come back. I hope he's okay." Maybe Artris died from his wounds. Maybe the people coming for him got lost, or where overwhelmed. Maybe there wasn't even anyone coming for him, and that Artris put false hope in his heart to make his death less miserable. Maybe-

"Shut up… He'll come," he growled to himself. Artris was fine when he left.

* * *

But miles and miles away towards the border between Wetlands and Arathi Highlands, laid mentioned rogue, in a puddle, on the brink of weeping. "Why…? Why…? Why, dammit?" he screamed, and quickly shut up in case he attracted anyone. Why, indeed? He didn't even know what he was whining about. But… Why him? Artris rolled up his sleeve and dipped his cold hand into the freezing puddle, washing off his arm from his blood and a little that splashed on him from the elf warrior. He was shivering terribly, wet, dirty and in a swamp. "N-N-Neph bet-t-ter be here soon…," he quivered, shaking his hand and putting both under his armpits to warm them. He stood from his crouched position and looked up and down the main path that travelled through the marshy Wetlands. No Neph. He sighed, and commenced shivering in a ball, hiding behind a large damp tree surrounded by bushes.

"Where in Fel is he….? I hope he dies in a fire… No wait, that's too good for that b-bastard. I hope he dies in a freezing lake! I deserve to die in a fire! ….S-So cold…. NEPH!"

Cricket chirp. Frog croak. Silence. He sighed once more, and sniffed as he started getting a runny nose. "If I die from a cold… I'll… I'll…," but nothing clever came to mind, so he leaned against the tree and kept an eye on the path. Don's counting on him to come back with people by morning. Well, it was past dawn, he could see the sky was bright and beyond the mists was the sun, blotted out. Thinking of how warm it was to be in the sun, he shivered again at being reminded of how damn cold it was.

He held his wine-colored cloak around him tighter and pulled up the hood to cover his head. It wasn't much warmer, but it beat being soaked by the mist. Be patient, he told himself. Neph would come.

* * *

Arcelare burst into the Sin'dorei's room, followed by his huge companion. The Night Elf was grinning when he saw the priest was still obediently in his room without causing trouble. But he did notice the untouched food sitting on the table near the priest. He marched over to the pale elf and sat down on the soft bed, leaning close to him and grabbing the slice of bread left over and biting it.

"S'not poisoned," he mentioned, holding the food in front of the priest who's eyes were cast away from Arcelare to the ground. He brushed some tangled hair over the long elven ear and kissed the priest's temple. He saw the other squirm and blush, tenderly taking the bitten bread from Arcelare. The warrior watched as the priest started to slowly eat the food.

Kasteus came up and pushed Arcelare over so he could sit down on the bed too, sighing with his deep voice. Arcelare leaned against the Draenei contently, copying the paladin's sigh. They were both tired from a lack of sleep last night. Arcelare smirked when he thought the elf's sleep wasn't much better and wrapped a hand around the small shoulder to pull the priest to his side.

The small Blood elf didn't struggle, still eating his bread lightly, he even leaned his head on Arcelare's shoulder.

Arcelare looked up at Kasteus and kissed his cheek, "You think we have enough time for a bath?"

Kasteus leaned his cheek on top of Arcelare's head and thought about it. "The boat comes every two days and ours leaves in two and a half hours. Cutting it pretty short, elf," he replied.

Arcelare stood up, and whined, "We'll be in and out in twenty minutes!"

Kasteus stood up also and started to walk to the bathroom, "Well. If you're so desperate to see me naked, I'll start it up. But, twenty minutes."

Arcelare smirked and sat back down beside the Sin'dorei who had finished his small meal. He nuzzled his face against the elf's neck affectionately, noticing he smelt like sweat and dirt. The priest did need a bath. "Listen, priest, I'll show you a thing or two to pleasure your partner, in a few minutes once Kasteus finishes."

Donelzane bit his lip, listening to the smooth tone of the Night elf, trying to imagine the words he was saying in Common. He wasn't sure if he wanted to be so close to the warrior, his tormentor… But there was an irresistible charm about the other that was attracting. He was so warm without his armor on, he looked less threatening, and even gentler. He frowned though, this was the man who's nearly killed Artris!

The warrior blabbed on and on in a quiet voice, obviously trying to make some small talk. But it went unanswered. Not long after did the Draenei reappear, half-naked, from the bathroom. The warrior stood up and grabbed Donelzane's hand gently, pulling him to his feet and leading him towards the Draenei. The three of them went into the bathroom, which wasn't huge, but wasn't small. Inside was a filled circular tub made of wood, like a barrel, but way bigger, and not as barrel-y. This tub was filled with steaming water, and Donelzane barely concealed his excitement to get clean.

He watched the Night elf slip off his black shirt, revealing a map of scars on his back. It looked like whip-marks but to Donelzane they could be anything. He was a warrior after all, they were built to take damage. The Draenei finished undressing, taking off his pants and underwear. Donelzane blushed and turned his head, taking his eyes off the two Alliance.

His chin was directed back to the scene by so-called Arcelare who was smiling. He said something in his smooth voice, tugging on the collar of the priest's shirt. Don blushed again, stepping away, not wanting to get naked in front of these two. But the warrior advanced on him and took the bottom of his shirt and pulled it over his head before Donelzane could fully defend himself. He was left without a top, his pale skin covered in scabs and traces of grime. He blushed farther, crossing his arms to cover himself.

The Draenei stepped into the tub that could easily fit the three of them, and settled down in the hot water. Arcelare followed him, dragging behind him Donelzane. The Kal'dorei stepped into the water beside his paladin, settling down also. He ushered the Blood elf to follow him, and with not a lot of choice Don did so. He immediately felt relieved at the hot water on his skin.

The next few moments he tried occupying himself by scrubbing himself off, using the small sliver of soap on the rim of the bathtub. He could hear the two Alliance being… well themselves, sounds of smooching and disturbed water were heard. Donelzane felt uneasy at the show of affection between the two and tried to clean his hair and skin faster so he could leave the two alone. But sadly that wasn't going to happen, because Arcelare turned to him with a sly grin and pulled him closer so the priest was sitting beside the two.

He heard the Night elf mutter something in that seductive tone of his, grinning as he moved to sit in the paladin's lap, wrapping his arms around the other's neck. Donelzane felt his face start to heat up and not because of the water, and he averted his eyes.

* * *

Neph and Teratore rode alone down the road towards Arathi Highlands. The wall that separated Hillsbrad and Arathi was in sight now through the morning mist.

"There it is," said Neph, slapping the reins of his hawk strider and the mount started out into a sprint.

The tauren did so too and his kodo followed.

It didn't take as long to pass through Arathi on their rides, whereas Artris chose to skulk, so it was in no time Neph and Teratore spotted the ruined old bridge leading from Arathi to the Wetlands.

"You think Artris is okay?" asked Neph, slowing his hawk strider to a gentle stride along the potholes and cracks of the bridge. The massive kodo did also, grunting and panting as he manoeuvred through the dislodged blocks.

"He's probably fine, I wouldn't worry about him. I'd worry about who we're saving," replied Teratore.

Neph sighed, trying to think about the scared priest instead of his best friend Artris. But, speak of the devil, minutes later as they crossed the bridge, mentioned rogue came flailing and stumbling from the bushes like an animal. Neph pulled his mount to a halt quickly, eyes wide at the red head running towards them.

"NEEEEPH!" he screamed, nearly falling to his knees in exhaustion as he stumbled and tripped to stop in front of the two. "Neph….! You're here!" cried Artris happily before making a horrified expression. "Alone!"

"Um. I brought Teratore," the mage pointed to the tauren who waved.

"SO?"

"I brought help!"

"I thought something more alone the lines of… a…."

Artris collapsed to his knees and fell forward in the dirt on his face, completely burnt out.

"Artris!" yelped Neph, hopping off his hawk strider to run to the fallen rogue. He knelt beside him and pulled him up to lay on his lap face up. Neph frowned at the bad shape Artris looked to be in. His beautiful fiery hair was flecked with dry blood, his clothing was bloody and ripped, he had horrible wounds that were covered with dirt and debris from the land. "Artris…," sighed Neph at the unconscious rogue, wiping some dirt from the rogue's cheek tenderly.

"Neph. We have to move off the road, we're in Alliance territory now. Let me help," spoke Teratore in a flat tone. He knelt down and pulled the rogue into his arms like a wounded puppy, holding the Sin'dorei to his warm fur and started carrying him away into the brush. Neph stood up and brushed his robes from the mud and grabbed the reins of his mount and Teratore's kodo and followed the hunter.

* * *

Arcelare moaned gently as Kasteus licked his neck and bit the skin lightly. He kissed along Arcelare's cheek and took his lips to his in a tentative kiss, his large hands petting the warrior's long silky hair. Arcelare had remained on Kasteus' lap in the water, the Draenei's member rubbing against his back.

All the while the priest had attempted to escape once or twice upon realizing the two Alliance were going to evidently get it on. But, Arcelare had "insisted" he stay, with help from empty threats of maiming him. So now the Sin'dorei remained obediently in the water with them, though he had curled up and stayed as far away as possible, not looking at them.

Kasteus bit Arcelare's earlobe and clung a moment, the warrior hissing at the pain, and the Draenei let go, licking the red spot his sharp teeth made. His large hand brushed through Arcelare's long hair and tugged at the roots, forcing his head back. The paladin licked and nipped at Arcelare's body, making the other shiver with pleasure. He leaned up and captured the warrior's mouth in his own, biting his lips and running his tongue along the ridges of the other's teeth, fighting with Arcelare's own tongue. He tasted sweet.

Arcelare placed his hands on Kasteus' shoulders and submitted himself to the Draenei, for he was the only one to receive such attention from the warrior. Arcelare would never let his heart fleet around to anyone else.

* * *

AN!: OKAY! Um, here's the unfinished chapter of #4! It was only about... 2/3's done but I haven't worked on it in forever and thought I would at least give an update dammit!


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